


Kinda out of luck

by Moxleytrash (yourfavoritefallenangel)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Anal Sex, Blood, Car Accidents, Falling In Love, Gross, Gunshot Wounds, Hand Jobs, Hitman Roman, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mercenary Dean, Multi, Murder, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Power Play, Spit As Lube, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3170753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourfavoritefallenangel/pseuds/Moxleytrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a mercenary under contract with William Regal when he's hired to take out someone who is a threat to William's business. That's all fine and good until someone shows up on his hit claiming it as his own. Shenanigans ensue. I'm very bad at summaries</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo and welcome. Ive been wanting to try writing a chapter fic for a while now since all I write is smutty one shots. What better pair to start with than Dean and Roman. I kinda got the idea for this train wreck from the song Kinda out of luck by Lana Del Rey god only knows why. But any ways I'm gonna try and keep this thing updated as I get the chapters done and it'll maybe make more since as it updates. Anyways if youve stayed tuned this long please enjoy. Kudos and comments are always welcome and motivate the shit out of my lazy ass but no pressure haha

On a humid Thursday in Florida a dark sky threatened to drain as a meeting was held in an ordinary looking building, more an old house than a building, placed seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Cars lined the road leading up to it, all polished, all clearly expensive but there was no movement outside. Everyone already inside, settled as the meeting unfurled and debates took place.

Dean had been watching the house through the scope of his rifle for a little over an hour. He had been waiting for everyone to go the fuck inside so he could sneak in, finish his job, and get the hell out of Dodge.

Now that everyone had seemed to settle and he was sure no one was going to come out and sound an alarm half way through his B and E, Dean stubbed out the cigarette he'd been puffing on and grabbed his gun, slinging it onto his back as he made his way around the back of the house.

It had been threatening to rain all fucking day and the humidity had his mood about as black as the clouds looming overhead.

He looked around before turning the knob on the back door slowly. Obviously it was locked because why would this job be easy for him? He huffed and fished his lock pick kit Willy had gotten him out of his pocket. 

After he wasted close to ten minutes picking the door lock he slipped inside without incident. No one was by the door which was lucky and even better no one was in the hall as he sneaked his way around the house. 

They had minimal 'security' if Dean could even call it that. It looked more to him like the valet at a casino in monkey suits. This was almost going to be too easy if everything continued like this.

Dean wasn't dressed nearly as pristine and clean as the guests for this 'meeting' but he was in all black and no one seemed to notice as he slipped around the back of the room, behind the servants in vests and even the valet-gone-security which was honestly ridiculous because there was a loaded assault weapon on his back and if he wasn't here to assassinate their boss he would've complained on their lack of vigilance.

He stole a finger sandwich off the platter on the table he was leaning against in the back of the room as his target rambled on about something he couldn't be bothered to care about, even with the passion the old white haired man was putting into his speech. It was kinda comical really. The guy looked virtually harmless and Dean really wasn't sure just why Willy wanted him dead but with William fucking Regal you never knew but the pay was good enough that Dean couldn't be bothered to care so after his third or fourth finger sandwich he pulled his rifle off his back and glanced through the scope before a pow followed by screams filled the room and Dean had an estimate of thirty minutes to get the fuck out.

He swung his rifle onto his back and took off around the room to the nearest window and bailed out of it, not caring if he got cut. He barrel rolled as he landed and took off down the road on foot. 

Dean ran until the screaming was long behind him. He headed in the general direction of where he had parked the car Willy had given him. 

The soft pitter patter of rain colliding with various surfaces had started up and so had Dean's foul language. He cursed everything that came to mind, including but not limited to Regal and all of his ex wives. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when the car was still in the thicket of trees and bushes he had parked it behind. If there was anything he'd learned it was park far enough away to not be followed but close enough to reach easily. Of course, he wished he had followed that second rule a little more closely. 

The car was a black Ford escort. Nothing fancy or remarkable and completely inconspicuous. Willy had wanted to get him something nicer but Dean declined. Newer, shiner cars were easy to spot and Dean had been in the job too long to make that dumb rookie mistake. No the Escort did just fine. The trunk had enough room for his small amount of guns and the backseat was great for napping in. If given another chance he'd choose it all over again.

After Dean had jammed his rifle into the trunk and stripped down to his boxers he climbed into the driver's seat to make his confirmation call. It always felt more like a home-safe-didn't-die call to your mother than it did confirming the kill was done but, again, that was Willy.

He fished a pre-paid out of the glove box and hit the speed dial on the only number in it. A smooth English voice cooing 'Regal' from the other end as soon as it picked up.

"Its done." 

"Flower." Recognition from the voice and Dean sighed. "You finished the job then? No incidents?"

Dean craned his neck from side to side to ease the stiffness, probably shouldn't have jumped out that window. He wasn't nineteen anymore. 

"Yeah. I'll be back tomorrow to collect my pay." 

It was Regal's turn to sigh and he did so absolutely over dramatic into Dean's ear. He liked those stupid games of puppet and puppet master. Liked to pretend he was more than just Dean's employer and it made Dean want to bash his brains in with the very drawer he kept Dean's contract in.

Despite the obvious annoyance Dean was causing him, Regal continued in that polite British tone that must have been branded into him from birth. Dean had never heard that man be rude in all of the seven years he'd worked for him. Even when he was cutting the fingers off of an account who'd stollen from him his voice had never wavered from that pretty British lilt. It was fascinating and terrifying.

"Well that's delightful I'll see you then darli-"

Dean hung up the phone and tossed it into the passenger seat before cranking his plain car and pulling out of the thicket of bushes and getting on the road. He wasn't in the mood for games today. He figured If he drove until the sun came up he would make it back to base by dinner Friday. He could collect his money and go home to spend a few days alone in his apartment before Ole Willy figured out something else for him to do.

He switched on a Rock station and leaned over to get the phone as he made it onto the highway. He tossed the little mobile out into the road with a satisfied smirk as it hit the pavement and shattered. Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap by ACDC was on and Dean hummed along absent mindedly as the sun set in his rear view.  
\--


	2. Don't Mess With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean arrives to collect his pay and take a much needed vacation as planned but then again when does anything ever go the way he planned?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two already? You're goddamn right. if you've read the first chapter and decided to stay I really cant thank you enough. If you've left kudos and comments just know I've been squealing at the computer screen every time I see them so thank you for that as well. I do hope you enjoy this chapter though it is short and I promise they'll get longer. Anyways if you've stuck around thank you again and if you've just arrived I hope you stay. Chapters are named after songs I was listening to as I wrote. Please enjoy

On Friday when Dean made it back to base it seemed a little more alive than usual. Papers were strewn about the floor and all the lackeys Willy kept around the place were buzzing around like fire ants trying desperately to repair the mound after its been disturbed. Dean found it odd but then again he was probably just tired and this was probably the usual. He hardly even came here anymore anyways. He shook it off and headed for Regal's office, no one really paid him any mind.

As he rounded the corner he ran smack into Wade Barrett. He was pretty much Ole Willy's personal lackey. He wasn't nearly as good as Dean behind a gun and for that he stayed in the office fetching coffee and filing papers until something more his level came along and Dean was already preoccupied. He couldn't stand Dean for that as if Dean gave a flying fat rat's ass what he thought.

"Watch it squirt." He spat a little as he looked down at Dean. He was English like Willy but his accent was hardly as smooth and infinity times more nerve pressing.

Dean stepped around him and held up both middle fingers as he walked backwards with a smile on his face. He wasn't going even dignify that with a vocal response. Barrett rolled his eyes and continued to his destination, no doubt to fetch Willy his coffee, as Dean turned around and headed into Regal's office.

The man himself was there, his head plopped unceremoniously on the desk in a way that reminded Dean of a school child at the end of a school day just before the final bell in those pleating moment before freedom. It made him laugh which alerted Regal, whose head shot up in a similar fashion to a dogs.

"Dandelion." Regal brushed the stray hairs from his face as he reasserted his posture. "I thought you were that bloody idiot coming back to ask more questions."

Dean snorted as he plopped down in the chair in front of Willy's desk. 

"Don't you regret teaching me how to shoot a gun?" Dean reached and plucked the top off the cookie tin Willy kept on his desk. He never at them and Dean was fairly sure they were there for him alone. He picked one that looked particularly sweet and took a large bite as Regal spoke.

"Sometimes I really do." He shuffled around in his desk drawer, Dean's drawer. That's what he called it. It held all things Regal had about him. His file, contract, money, and probably more cookies but Dean was guessing. Willy wouldn't let him see in the drawer. He was probably afraid Dean would shred his contract. Not that he'd thought about it.

Regal tossed a bundle of one hundred dollar bills across his desk and Dean leaned forward to collect them, thumbing through them and holding back the little smirk that wanted to come through.

"Thanks old man." Dean went to stand but Regal tutted.

"Ah ah Flower I have another assignment for you." He held out a beige file thicker than most of the books on Willy's shelves. Dean stared at it like it was going to bite him. He sighed and took the file flipping it open to view his new target. He didn't look up as he spoke.

"This ones double pay."

The file had a photo of a big bull headed man. Shoulders square and close cropped blond hair. He had a permanent snarl etched into his features and would've been an intimidating mark for anyone other than Dean. Dean just thought he looked more hilarious than scary. 

The second photo was of the same man but accompanied by a short balding man. He was yelling into the phone he had glued to his ear and was waving his hands around. Dean snorted. This was going to be easier than Dean had anticipated but he wasn't taking back to double pay remark. He still had to stay up and read about this buffoon and the extra money would help ease his emotional trauma from having to stare at this guy for however long it took to get through the file.

Regal had a small smile on his face before his stern business face was put on as if it actually worked on Dean.

"This one's important Dean. The pay will be enormous but I need you take this one seriously. Lesnar and Heyman have been a thorn in my side for a while now and I need this kill to be clean. Do you understand Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes and nodded. He hated it when Regal used that voice on him. Like he was a damn child. He was perfectly capable of putting a bullet into this idiot and his sidekick too if required. 

"As a sign of good faith Dean you'll be getting your full pay up front and a bonus on completion of the job."

That sounded nice. Maybe Dean would have to be a 'good wittle boy' and do this one right. Not that he didn't all of his jobs right, he just did them his way instead of the whole procedure deal but Willy could be such a snob sometimes. Dean would have to consider doing it his way this time if it meant pay up front.

"Alright, okay, you got me I'll do it geeze." 

Regal sighed with relief as Dean stood and checked his jacket pocket for his money. Regal stood and came around the desk to pull Dean into a hug, pinning Dean's arms at his sides as he embraced him.

"I missed you flower."

Dean sighed at his tone, all soft and questioning. Dean wasn't dumb, he knew that tone and he melted a little in the embrace. Puppet and puppet master games again and Dean just wasn't in the mood for it, so he submitted and tilted his head to the right just enough to expose his neck.

"I'll bet. Who wouldn't miss this face." He shivered at the lips, feather light on his neck just at the neck line of his shirt. A hand under his leather jacket at his hip and the lips on his neck were getting more forceful. He shivered again and damned his body for its reactions. He was getting hard.

"William." And not Willy because he needed his attention. "The door. Your dog could walk in." If he was going to be a walking porn cliche and fuck his boss on the desk he damn well wasn't going to have Barrett walk in and give him ammunition for any kind of lenching.

Thankfully, Regal stepped away and went to lock the door. Dean slipped his jacket off and dropped it in the chair and Regal was back on him, pinning him to the desk and crushing their lips together. It made Dean bite his own lip and the sharp little jolt of pain went straight to his prick and made him wonder why he was so damn strange.

He felt a cold hand sneak up his shirt tail to rub up his stomach as the lips moved from his own back to his neck and he shuddered under the touch. They'd fooled around like this dozens of times before. Dean didn't consider it anything more than a game. He wasn't entirely sure what Willy saw it as. Knowing him though it was most likely a power play. Dean didn't see any harm in it. He got to nut without having to chase bar skanks and he got to keep his job so where was the downside? It wasn't as if he was with someone. He hadn't dated since he took this job. Not really anyways. A girl here, a guy there, he wasn't picky just hard to deal with. His job wasn't exactly answering phone calls in a cubicle from nine to five after all and most people tuck tail and run when you don't disclose your employment on the third date so why bother?

The hand on his stomach slid down and brought him out of his daze. The button on his worn out jeans came loose easily and one long slender finger dipped just into the elastic band of his boxers. He felt teeth on his jaw, nibbling just lightly enough to hopefully not leave a mark. A cool hand wrapped around his shaft and his damn knees nearly buckled.

The soft chuckle from Regal in his ear made Dean grit his teeth. Even when he went out of his way to avoid these damn power play games he was still sucked right back into them and he was loosing this one already. His cheeks were red and he knew it, the hand on his cock speeding up the languid strokes being employed and Dean cursed the day Regal was born and every birthday he'd ever had up until that very moment.

"Fuck." His voice was raspy and hopelessly desperate as Dean brought his hips up into each stroke. He'd blame it on the fact that he hadn't had a good fuck in well over eight months but it was a weak cop out.

"That's it dandelion." Regal sounded just as desperate as Dean felt. His breathless voice urging Dean to basically fuck his fist as he dry humped Dean's leg. Dean was sure he'd a porno similar to this at some point but he couldn't pin point it. The pressure in his cock and up his spine building momentum as the bucking of his hips became more and more desperate. Fucking Regal wasn't stroking any faster than when this started. Dean was doing all the work, the fucking bastard knew what he was doing but Dean was close enough that he didn't care anymore. His breaths were hitched up in his throat and the teeth on his neck felt just right. If his orgasm hadn't of felt so good he would've been embarrassed at just how fast he came, shooting two volcanic stripes into Regal's hand and into his boxers.

"Ah, fuck." He'd admit his vocabulary was fairly limited when it came for coming. They say only one of your heads can work at a time and all cognitive information was unfortunately still in the one bellow his belt.

"Its been a while then?" Regal laughed, fucking laughed, as he pulled his hand from Dean's boxers and all of Dean's wits came flooding back.

"Fuck you. Gimme my money so I can go kill this idiot and have my fucking vacation." It probably would've come out more intimidating if Dean wasn't trying to keep the wet spot in his boxers from sticking to his jeans as he closed them back up. He snatched his jacket up and shrugged it on, snatching the money from Regal and file up off the desk.

He didn't bother counting it. He stormed out of the office after he finally unlocked the door. His cheeks were hot with shame or embarrassment or post orgasm bliss, he wasn't sure and didn't care.

He weaved his way through the halls and out past the lackeys still pilfering around like turkeys in a damn thunderstorm. 

He climbed into his car and dumped the file into passenger seat. He spent the next half a minute punching the steering wheel until he felt better. He'd always been a sore loser, came from being shit on his whole life.

After he'd calmed down some he picked up the thick file and flipped it open. It'd be at least a days drive so he'd have to get a room and leave in the morning. He needed a shower, some sleep, and a change of clothes. Then he'd leave out to eliminate this guy. Why he was such a threat Dean didn't know but forty grand didn't leave room for thought. 

He cranked his car and pulled off. Shower, sleep, ammo, and then he was going to get this Brock Lesnar guy and his little dog too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: Don't mess with me- Temposhark
> 
> Thank you for coming and I hope you enjoyed


	3. The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean arrives to carry out his assignment. It all goes according to plan until he runs into an unexpected obstacle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Chapter because the feedback had me motivated and also because I'll end up too distracted by Smackdown to write tomorrow so yeah. As always thank you for coming and reading. Your Kudos and comments are always appreciated and I hope you enjoy.

Dean drove all night. It took him a little over twenty hours and his ass was killing him. He'd only stopped to fill up the gas tank and take a piss then straight back on the road. His back was tweaked and he desperately needed to sleep. He couldn't wait to get to the hotel. Willy had gotten him a nice room in an extravagant hotel. He could have done without it. He was honestly content to sleep in the car but Willy had insisted and he wasn't going to argue. A hot shower and a plush bed would probably do his back allot more good than the backseat of his Escort. If he ever made it to the hotel that is. He'd been stuck in traffic for forty five minutes. Willy was going to owe him so much for this one. If he had read the file before he stormed out he probably would've made Willy send Barrett or himself on this job for all Dean cared. He figured Englishmen were probably better equipped for the big apple than he was. Hell, his apartment was in Vegas near the dessert, he wasn't designed for the cold.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as traffic started to pick back up and he could drive faster than three miles per hour. After the initial jam and he got moving it only took him thirty minutes to get to the hotel.

Dean pulled into the parking garage, adamant on the valet not parking for him. He needed to know exactly where the car was when it came time to leave and the guns under the seat, in the glove box, and the trunk probably wouldn't blow over well if discovered. Better safe than sorry.

He checked in at the front desk and collected his card.

"Enjoy your stay Mr. Regal."

If Dean rolled his eyes any harder they would roll out of his head. Mr. Dean Regal. It would've been funny if it wasn't so disgusting. Willy had jokes. But the room he'd put Dean in was no joke. It was fucking huge and completely over the top. It kind of made Dean's head hurt. He expected expensive but this exceeded all of his imaginings. 

He set his bags at the foot of bed and flopped back onto it. It was marshmallow soft and he sank into it like chocolate into jiffy puff. He couldn't help but smile. Regal may have gotten on his nerves ninety-eight percent of the time but he did spoil Dean like his personal lap dog.

Speaking of Regal, Dean was supposed to call. He rolled over and climbed up the bed, tapping Ole Willy's office number into the receiver. It only took three rings and that silky accent flowed through the speaker.

"I trust the room's to your liking Dandelion."

"It's a little much isn't it? I'm only gonna be here two days at the most." Dean plucked the complimentary chocolate off the pillow, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth as he rolled over.

"Only the best for you flower."

Dean rolled his eyes as Regal went on.

"I'm glad you made it in safe. Go get some rest so you can do this job." 

"That was the plan. I'll call when its done." 

He hung up without a response, rolling off the bed and venturing into the ridiculous bathroom. It had a shower and a bathtub with two toilets though Dean wasn't sure how the hell you would go about using the second one. He eyed it wearily as he walked past it to the shower. Willy had honest to god out done himself this time.

Dean turned the tap and stripped down, stepping into the much needed shower he nearly melted under the heat. The water pressure was perfect and the hot water eased the road trip tension that had set in his shoulders. He almost didn't want to move and ended up spending nearly fifteen minutes just standing there.

After his shower, Dean settled into the ridiculous bed and ordered room service. If Willy was so hell bent on spoiling him Dean was going to take full advantage. Once he'd had dinner he ended up flipping between three channels until he fell asleep still sitting up.  
\--

Dean ended up sleeping for well over twelve hours. He had thrashed all the covers off the bed in his sleep and the late afternoon sun coming in through the large windows of the hotel room just wasn't enough warmth in cool New York climate. Needless to say Dean woke up cursing.

"For the love of fuck!" Dean groaned and stretched. Maybe falling alseep in just his boxers was a mistake. He was freezing his ass off. He rolled out of the bed and landed in the blankets on the floor. He rolled himself up in them before shuffling off to the bathroom. He had to maneuver the blanket so he could piss and eye the weird second toilet to make sure it didn't try anything funny. 

Once he'd relieved himself he made his way over to his bags where he attempted to pick out his clothes for his mission. A ravishing yawn racked his body and he decided that laying in the floor until he was fully awake was more appealing than actually getting dressed. Mornings were definitely not his thing. Murder yes mornings not so much. 

He spent an unnecessary amount of time denying he was awake before he actually got up and got moving. He pulled his long sleeve black shirt from his bag as well as his black jeans. Black on black was his choice in murder clothes, especially when Willy insisted he do the job according to procedure. 

He slipped his clothes on and wet his hair down, slicking it back. Once he was satisfied with his appearance he collected his bags and headed to his car. It wasn't going to be a long drive. A ball-room-dance-hall-some-shit where Lesnar would be attending some party or something Dean didn't pay attention to. Willy had made sure the route was out of traffic and fairly easy to navigate to keep him out of trouble or so he said. The lap dog thing reared its ugly head in his mind. Disgusting.  
\--  
The drive was actually about a hours drive with the light traffic route. He parked just down the street and popped his trunk. He slipped his tactical vest on and picked out his weapons. He decided against bringing his rifle as it would draw too much attention, instead choosing to bring the Model 500 S&W Magnum. Willy had gotten for him on his birthday. It could penetrate a bullet proof vest and he was sure it would get the job done. But as he always said, better safe than sorry, and so he brought the Browning nine milometer as well. It wasn't as strong as the Smith and Wesson but it was good backup. 

He slipped the Browning into the ankle holster he'd strapped on and the 500 into the one on his hip. Car's were pulled in and people were cramming into the building with obvious excitement and Dean figured it would be easy to slip inside from the back. He grabbed his lock pick kit and slipped it into a pocket on his vest just in case. The sun was starting to set and the party would be getting into full swing soon. 

With his stick of gum in his mouth, a gun concealed at his side, and no time to waste Dean headed for the party.

As he got closer he noticed the guests were full formal and he made the decisions to stick to the shadows as he made his way around the back of the building. Fortunately, there was a garden out back and the doors were wide open for the guests allowing Dean to slip in unnoticed. 

He headed up the stairs to the balcony among some women in tight gowns. They eyed him like he smelt of wet dog. Dean winked and blew some kisses which made them all scatter. He had to conceal his laughter as he scoped out the first floor. His target couldn't exactly be missed and Dean didn't see him anywhere among the sea of people. 

He huffed and headed toward the back of the building, hand resting on his gun just in case he ran into Lesnar in the hall. He traveled a whole of three doors before he had to duck in the door frame of a room as Lesnar emerged from one of the rooms at the end of the hall, Heyman and another thinner guy, dressed far less formally than any of the guests, in tow. Heyman was running his mouth as they walked. 

Dean held his breath and waited for them to continue on before he breathed a sigh and took off in a brisk walk, gun drawn at his side. He was gonna need to be quick about this. The thinner guy who was most definitely not in the goddamn file was clearly armed and Dean wasn't about to get shot.

As he rounded the corner he ran smack into what felt like a brick wall. It knocked him flat on his ass and nearly dropped his gun. When he got his wits back and got back to his feet he noticed the wall was not in fact a wall but a person coming from a room, headed the same place he was. Dean had his gun trained on them before he could even think straight and when he could asses the situation he realized a gun was trained on him as well and he was probably fucked royally.

"Who the hell are you?" The person, man, asked in a hushed whisper that surprised Dean.

"Who the hell are?" Dean had his finger on the trigger as he assessed the guy in front of him. He was dressed in an all black suit and a fuck ton of black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail at the back of his head. The gun he currently had aimed in Dean's face looked to be standard issue but that didn't mean he wasn't faster on the trigger than Dean.

"I asked first." And fuck his voice was deep.

"I'm here on a job now who are you?" Dean was giving out too much information but he was also stalling because he didn't want to kill this guy if he didn't have to. It felt wasteful when he was so pretty.

The guy groaned and tightened his grip on his gun before he spoke. "So am I and I really don't feel like killing more people than I'm supposed to so stand down."

Was that a threat? Dean's job actually dropped and he furrowed his brows. 

"Oh no. You stand down this is my kill!" Dean wasn't aware he'd raised his voice until Pony Tail shushed him and glanced over his shoulder.

"Don't make me kill you."

Dean rolled his eyes and chewed his gum a little harder before he pushed past Pony Tail and walked down the hall. Or so he tried. He actually only made it about an inch and half past Pony Tail before he was snatched back and slammed into the wall by his shirt and fuck he was strong. The collision knocked all of the wind out of Dean. He struggled to draw in a breath and he was vaguely aware his feet were no longer touching the ground.

"Stand down little man."

Little? That was enough. Dean brought his legs up and planted them on Pony Tail's chest, kicking him backward and into the opposite wall. They both hit the floor and Dean scrambled to collect his pistol that had been knocked from his hand. He grabbed it up off the floor and spun around just as Pony Tail tackled him, legs out and shoulder first right into Dean's solar plexus and they both went crashing to the ground loud enough to alert the people downstairs. Hell, Dean was sure Willy heard them back at base. 

Pony Tail stood over him with a smirk as Dean curled in on himself and tried to focus on breathing.

"I swear to god I'm gonna kill you, you stupid Pony tail wearing bitch." It wasn't nearly as threatening as Dean wanted it to be but he rolled and found his feet despite his lack of air. He grabbed his pistol as Pony Tail laughed. 

"You can try." Pony tail aimed his own gun at Dean just as a voice from the end of the hall had both their attention.

"How about I try." 

Dean recognized the thin guy that had been trailing Lesnar earlier and Dean decided not to gamble with his life. He scrambled to run in the opposite direction as the sound of silencers filled the hallway and Dean knew he was now running for his life.

He rounded the corner and heard actual unaltered fire sound off and knew it was Pony Tail retaliating. Dumb bastard was going to get himself killed. Dean opened a door and thanked whatever god was listening that it was empty as he backed inside. He didn't know what compelled him to do it or why he fucking cared but as Pony Tail backed around the corner and toward his door, Dean reached out and pulled him inside, kicking the door shut and locking it.

"We can kill each other later but right now we need to get the hell out of Dodge." 

Dean knew they didn't have much time. He headed for the window and threw it open. There wasn't anything in the way and they were only on the second floor so Dean figured the jump wouldn't be too bad and if he broke something it couldn't be as bad as what would probably happen if they got caught.

"C'mon. They kill us if they catch us or worse." Dean glanced back at Pony Tail, who had two guns aimed at the door and looked incredibly powerful in that stance. 

"Out the window?!" He had backed up to Dean and glance over his shoulder without turning around.

Dean rolled his eyes. This guy was in the wrong fucking business. "Yes out the goddamn window. If you break something it wont be half as bad as dying now come on." Just as Dean finished his sentence someone slammed into the door and Dean didn't need anymore motivation. He jumped, tucking and rolling as best he could but it didn't really help and he heard his left shoulder pop and a searing pain shot through him.

Pony Tail came out the window seconds behind him, landing a little more successfully than Dean had and rolling beside him. Nausea washed over him every time he moved and Pony Tail must have taken pity on him because he caught Dean by the back of his tack vest and threw him over his his shoulder.

"We can kill each other later." Pony Tail huffed and took off running as best he could with 220 something off pounds extra that is.

Dean bit into his lip and groaned, holding his shoulder to keep the movement minimal as Pony Tail toted him like a sack of potatoes. Pony Tail carried him to a black Cadillac Escalade and all but dumped him into the passenger seat before climbing into the driver's himself and squealing tires as he pulled off.

It didn't look like they were being followed and Dean was thankful for that. He was coming down from the adrenaline as they drove and the pain in his shoulder was getting worse. With every minute they drove and Dean had to fight to stay conscious.

Pony Tail was checking the rear view mirror every few seconds as he sped down the highway. After an unknown amount of time drastically exceeding the speed limit Pony Tail's white knuckle grip eased on the steering wheel and he slowed the car to legal limits.

"I don't think they saw us escape." He was probably speaking more to himself than to Dean but the noise would help keep him conscious.

Dean sat up in the seat a little, still holding his shoulder to look out the windshield. He couldn't really tell where they were but again the whole fighting unconsciousness thing was rearing its ugly head. He need to talk.

"Thanks for saving my ass back there."

Pony Tail was taking his hair down and oh. Oh, wow he was pretty. Dean had to look away. This guy did still try to kill him and fucked up his mission even if he did save Dean's ass and was super pretty.

"I kinda owed you one." He loosened his tie next and the pain in Dean's shoulder was becoming less of his focus.

"Yeah well don't mention it." Dean cleared his throat as another wave of pain ripped through him. "I'm uh- I'm Dean by the way." because fuck it he was already royally fucked. He might as well dig his grave nice and deep.

"I'm Roman."

Roman. It sounded much better to Dean than Pony Tail. Fit him better too. A pretty name for a pretty boy.

"It's unfortunate to meet you Roman." Dean laughed and immediately regretted it as he felt nauseous again. Roman was smiling but it disappeared when he glanced over at Dean.

"You okay?"

"I've had worse." It wasn't a lie but it didn't mean it didn't suck ass either. Dean had a high pain tolerance he wasn't superhuman.

The car slowed and came to a stop on the side of the road and Dean went rigid. Roman turned in the seat and leaned forward.

"Let me see." He reached forward and unzipped Dean's tactical vest and pulled it off as gently as he could. Dean wasn't aware how hard he was pressed against the door until he didn't have anymore room to move. 

Roman looked at him sternly and against all his instinct Dean relaxed a little as a large hand settled on his back and the other on his shoulder. No time to protest. No warning.

Snap. Searing, volcanic pain. Black in his vision and Dean's shoulder was back in place.

He didn't cuss. Not that he didn't want to but because he couldn't breath. Roman had settled back into the seat and pulled back onto the road. 

"Sorry." 

Dean shook his head as he leveled his breathing. 

"Where are we going?"

"I dunno."

"Well what are we gonna do now?"

"I dunno that either."

Dean sighed. He was well and truly fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from The Mission by Puscifer. Props if you guessed who the skinny guy with Paul and Brock is. I'll reveal next chapter I promise. Thank you so much for reading!


	4. Another way to die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is a bit trapped and bit low on luck but he's starting to think he doesn't really mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there my people! I have returned with Chapter four for y'all and am currently working on chapter five. If you've stuck around then thank you so very much youre truly amazing! If you've just arrived then welcome I hope you find joy in this train wreck. Thank you all for reading and leaving kudos you dont know how happy it makes me and how much it drives me to continue. Also if you figured out who the skinny guy was props if you didnt then you'll find out in this chapter. Well without further ado read on friends.

Passing out with strangers was something that was usually limited to a rousing night of chasing McCormick with Corona until the sun came up and yet Dean found himself waking up to the early morning sun on his face and his head leaned against a cool car window. A pleasant change, perhaps, if the memory of how exactly he ended up in the car to begin with wasn't flooding back to him.

He sat up slowly and stretched his arms above his head. The decision was one of immediate regret as pain shot through his shoulder, across his spine and into his fingers.

"Ow fuck!" He pulled his arm close to him and cradled it against his chest as he looked around. It was pretty obvious he wasn't in New York anymore, in fact he wasn't sure where he was anymore.

He turned to look at the man driving. Roman, his brain supplied. The man who not twenty four hours ago was going to kill him if Dean didn't kill him first and now they were in a car together driving god only knew where like old college friends. Dean felt like an idiot. He was so beautifully and intimately fucked. Like, candle light and Frank Sinatra on your anniversary fucked. 

He'd compromised the mission over a pissing match with another mercenary. Regal was going to rip him a new asshole or worse, make him the whipping boy like Barrett.

Dean shivered at the thought. He sneaked a glance at Roman, who was humming softly to himself as he unwrapped some candy and popped it into his mouth. Dean noticed there were candy wrappers in a semi-neat pile on the center console which made Dean wonder just how long Roman had been driving. Probably all night. Last Dean had known they weren't being followed but his motto had recently become better safe than sorry though he was feeling more sorry than safe.

He attempted to subtly check his holster on his hip. It was empty. He cursed under his breath and rubbed his left foot against his right ankle to find that one was empty as well. He was definitely more on the sorry side than safe. He schooled his expression but Roman was already glancing over at him.

"What? Did you think I would make the rookie mistake of letting you keep your weapons?" He was smirking as he unwrapped another candy. "Do you think I'm an amateur?"

"The way you were shooting back at the party you might as well be."

Dean thought he mumbled. He really did but if the fist connecting with his jaw was any indication that he wasn't quite as quiet as he thought he was.

He yelped as his teeth clicked together and brought his left hand up to cover his mouth causing another pain to shoot back through his shoulder.

"Ow! What the- Fuck!" He clutched his arm back to his chest and worked his jaw back and forth.

"Watch your mouth boy." He slipped another candy between his lips as Dean stared at him in complete disbelief. He wasn't sure what fucked him up more. The punch or the fact that this pretty-boy-ponytail-wearing-fuck just called him 'boy'.

Roman checked the rear view mirror as he spoke again.

"How's your arm?"

Was he serious? Dean stared at him for a minute before coming to the conclusion that he was in fact serious. Fine, Dean would humor him.

"It hurts like a bastard thanks for asking." Dean looked out the window as civilization was starting to appear. He looked back to Roman who was still checking the rear view every few seconds.

"We need to get it wrapped up so you cant fuck it up any worse than you already have." He made a left and checked the mirror again before relaxing some in the seat. At least he was vigilant. 

Dean rubbed the joint and winced. 

"Maybe get you some aspirin. I need to stretch my legs anyways." 

Dean had just noticed they were in a town of some sort and currently pulling into a parking space. Dean reached to open the door but it didn't budge. He shook the handle a few times before the realization that this bastard had the child lock on came over him.

"Seriously?!"

"Just sit tight." Roman stepped out of the car and shut the door. He opened the back door and grabbed a bag and a gun. He slipped the gun into a holster on his side. Dean sighed as he shut the door and walked around to Dean's door and opened it. He placed his hand back on the gun at his side as Dean stepped out.

"Listen. If you run I will shoot you. I don't want to but I will. I cant have you contacting someone to come get you and kill me which makes you my prisoner." The bastard actually smirked and Dean really wanted to punch his stupid pretty face. 

"Now. Lets get this vest off and get some supplies so we can get back on the road." 

Dean rolled his eyes. All this 'we' shit like he hadn't just announced Dean was his official prisoner. The things Dean would do if he had his gun.

Roman reached and unzipped Dean's tactical vest slowly. His grey eyes were trained on the zipper as he brought it down and Dean's mind begged him to run but he found his feet rooted to the spot. He imagined that was what a gazelle felt when a lion was barreling toward it. He decided the feeling was a very unwelcome one.

Dean slipped his good arm out of the arm hole and sucked in a breath before moving his injured arm away from his body and letting the vest drop. Tears burned his eyes for a second as Roman picked the vest up and dropped it into the car, shutting the door before resting a hand on Dean's left shoulder and guiding him toward a "Mom and Pop" pharmacy on the corner. He was truly Sinatra and scented candles fucked.  
\--

Roman 'guided' him into the pharmacy and over to the counter. An older woman was there and she smiled as they approached.

"Excuse me Ma'am do you have a public restroom we could use?"

He was so polite that if he wasn't practically threatening to dislocate Dean's shoulder Dean could have mistaken him for a regular civilian. The lady pointed toward the back and Roman smiled at her and indicated his thanks as he tugged Dean along.

"Youre so good with people." Dean muttered, "Can hardly tell you're a hired killer." The hand on his shoulder tightened and he whimpered in response.

"Watch your mouth before I punch you again." 

He shoved Dean through the door first, stepping in after him and locking the door. He dropped his bag and stretched.

"Is this the part where you make me do things to you for my freedom?" Dean was aware his sense of humor was warped. Willy had always told him it was. He thought he was pretty funny. It made him smile when Roman shook his head.

"That's pretty fucked up man."

Dean was suddenly aware that Roman was getting undressed. He had removed his blazer and tie and was currently working on unbuttoning his shirt. Dean tried to look anywhere but the mirror or at the man standing in front of it as he slipped his shirt off and oh. Dean noticed the tattoo on his arm along with the muscles of his back. He had to turn towards the wall.

"You better piss. I pretty sure we're being followed which means we wont be stopping again for a while."

Dean spared a glance over his shoulder but immediately turned around when Roman started slipping his trousers down his hips. Dean instead focused on relieving himself because he'd be damned if he was pissing in a bottle.

When he'd finished and turned back around Roman was dressed and focused on brushing his ridiculous hair back into a sleek pony tail. He was clad in some regular jeans and a black shirt with a spider on the front. He actually looked normal. It was slightly horrifying.

When he was done combing all that mane back into a tight pony tail he tucked his things back into his bag and turned to Dean, who was leaning awkwardly against the wall, arm still tucked up against his chest. He looked away when Roman turned to him like he hadn't been staring nearly the whole time.

"Alright." He hoisted the bag onto his back and linked his massive arm with Dean's hurt one. "Lets get some supplies and see if we can fix you up." He turned and started walking and Dean didn't have much of a choice but to follow.

Roman dragged him around the store collecting things off the shelves and dropping them into the tote basket he'd put Dean in charge of. To say Dean was pouting would've been a drastic understatement. He was down right, hair trigger from temper tantrum territory as Roman dropped different items into the basket, dragging Dean up and down the isles before finally heading for the cash register.

The older woman who Roman had spoken to earlier stood from her stool and rang them up as Dean glared daggers at Roman who continued to smile at the woman. If looks could kill then Roman would've been dead and buried in a shallow grave at the bottom of a cliff in a rain storm that would flood the valley and leave him in a watery grave.

Maybe that's what Dean would do with him when he got his gun back. Just drive them into a valley at the bottom of a cliff and put this pretty fuck in a shallow grave. Dean should have let him get shot. He blamed Willy for his conscience. It was disgusting.  
\--

The older woman finished ringing them up and Roman paid her in cash, telling her to keep the change and dragging Dean along and back to the car. He opened the door and glared at him harder if that was even possible. He was squinting so hard he could hardly see but he felt he needed to convey his disdain for this man as physically as he possible.

"Such a gentleman."

"Mmmhm." Roman opened the glove box and pulled out a shiny pair of handcuffs slapping one half onto Dean's right wrist and the other to what Dean called the oh shit handle on the door. Dean tested the cuffs as Roman dangled a key in his face and the shallow grave Dean was going to put him in got significantly deeper.

"Just wanna make sure you don't bail out of the car at a red light." With that he shut the door and Dean had to close his eyes to compose himself himself. He waited for the other to get in and they were back on the road before he opened his eyes again. Roman was using his teeth to tear open a bag of those candies he was constantly eating. Dean's patience was going to stretch thin very quickly. He really needed to call Willy and let him know that he wasn't running with the money but that didn't seem like it would be happening any time soon. For the moment he was trapped with a sugar loving psycho.  
\--

"You don't have to sit there an pout the whole time you know?" Roman's voice pulled him from his thoughts and Dean spared a glance at the an driving before turning away again.

"I'm not pouting." It was a lie and they both knew it but Roman pressed on.

"Yes. You are but whatever. Tell me about yourself."

Was he serious again? Dean was slowly learning that if he had to ask himself that it meant that yes, Roman was one hundred percent heart attack serious. Dean sighed and continued to ignore him.

"How'd you get into the business?"

Honestly? Dean groaned.

"Got low on money. Needed some food. Decided to rob the richest looking place I could get into. Got the shit kicked outta me. They guy liked me and taught me how to use a gun properly. Now I kill people. Happy?"

It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the full truth either and Dean thought it was better that way. No real information given but this candy loving fuck still got his way. Everybody wins.

Roman hummed in what seemed like satisfaction and Dean found himself curious. His mouth was working before his brain could tell it no.

"What about you sunshine? How'd a pretty boy like you become a serial killer for hire?"

Dean didn't miss the little smile on Roman's face nor did he miss the nostalgic little spark lighting up the grey.

"My cousin did it before me. Taught me how to use a gun when I was younger. When a cubicle job wasn't satisfying me I called him and he got me started. Taught me most of the things he knew. I learned the rest through trial and error. Nothing special." 

Dean analyzed the information and stored it away slowly. They were so different it was almost painful though Dean couldn't argue with not wanting to work in an office. If he had any phobias besides his fear of snakes it was working in an office. He hummed his acknowledgment.

After a few minutes of silence Roman smirked and spoke.

"So. You think I'm pretty?"

Dean's cheeks instantly burned and his eyes widened of their own accord. He immediately looked out the window to hide his face. 

"No!" His voice squeaked and he cursed everything under sun. "Why would you say that?" 

"You asked how a pretty boy like me got into the bushiness so do you think I'm pretty?"

Dean closed his eyes and pursed his lips. That question was baited and he knew it. He stayed quiet and groaned when Roman's soft chuckle filled the cab of the car. For love of god, look what he'd done. He was sure his whole face was red.

The laughter eventually died down but the smile remained on Roman's face and Dean could hardly look at him. Stupid pretty boy. His heart was beating faster than it should and he wanted to blame it on the car behind them. 

Speaking of which it was really close. Far closer than just an asshole having a bad day close. Dean knew because if it were just an asshole in a hurry they would've been passed but this car was just staying on their bumper. 

Dean turned around as best he could to see better. The car's windows were tinted and Dean couldnt see a thing. The realization that the car probably contained the some people sent by Heyman and Lesnar to destroy them made Dean's adrenalin spike. He turned to look at Roman who was watching the car in the rear view as he pressed the gas and increased their speed. 

The car followed suit and Dean started to twitch in his seat.

"Un-cuff me." He wasn't going to panic. Regal had taught him you never panic. If you lose your head you die and so he wasn't going to panic. 

"Shhh."

Dean stared at him as his breathing increased. The car bumped them and Roman snatched the wheel to keep them on the road. He had a focused look on his face, lips poked out into a mock pout and his grip on the wheel was white knuckle as the took another hit to the bumper and Dean had to grip the door to keep from falling in the floor.

Roman pressed on the gas harder and the speedometer was pushing seventy now.

"Please give me the key." He was not gonna panic.

Another bump and Roman snatched the wheel as the car got sideways.

He was not going to panic.

Bumped again and Roman was yelling apparently at the car behind them.

"I just got this car!"

Dean was going to die. He tugged on the cuffs as if he could break them and swore when they didn't let go.

When the car connected with them again they went sideways and Roman snatched the wheel. It didn't do much at their speed and when the car connected again it tipped them and they rolled three and half times. Or, Dean thought they did. He blacked out for a few minutes but when he came to he was half in the seat, half in the floor. His shoulder was burning and he was sure his wrist was most likely broken. Blood was pouring from his head and his breathing was coming in short ragged bursts as he pulled himself up into the seat.

Roman was unconscious. The seat belt had kept him in place and his head was leaned against the steering wheel.

Dean looked over his back at the car that had stopped a few yards behind them. The skinny guy from the party was walking toward them and he had an AK-47 in hand. Time to panic.

"Roman!" Dean kicked him in the thigh. Nothing. "Roman please he has a very big gun." Another kick. Nothing. "Roman please!" He was desperate. His voice cracked when he yelled and he was seconds away from chewing his own arm off. "Roman!"

The long haired mercenary sat up quickly and winced as his brain re calibrated. The skinny guy was getting closer by the second and Dean was currently about as helpless as a baby.

Roman noticed the impending death warrant approaching and looked to Dean to make sure he was alright. The look of pure panic shot Roman into action and he dove between the seats to search for weaponry. He emerged from between the seats with a FN P90. Dean had never actually seen on in person. It would've been exciting if impending doom wasn't about one hundred feet from them.

When Roman spoke to him he did so in a hushed and desperate tone that made Dean's chest hurt.

"I want you to crank the car when I give the word, Dean. I want you to crank the car and get down."

Dean swallowed and nodded, biting back the cry that threatened his lips as he reached out with his left arm and put his hand on the keys hanging from the ignition. Roman had the P90 pointed out the window. The skinny guy had stopped and was shouting at them.

"You really want to take that chance Reigns?" He was aiming the AK at them as he spoke. "You know I'm the best gunman in the world. You wont get a shot off before I destroy you."

Roman has a deranged smirk on his face as he spoke. "I know. Now Dean!"

Dean hit the key and Roman pressed the gas as he fired at the skinny guy. The car cranked and Roman dropped the gun between the door and the seat to focus on getting the car back straight and fleeing.

The skinny guy fired, peppering the bumper and back glass of the car as they sped down the road. The only sound Dean could hear was his heartbeat in his ears like war drums.

Roman winced and checked the mirror before veering off the road completely and taking to a gravel path into the woods. Dean was still trying to school his breathing as he heard his own voice in his ears.

"Are you okay?"

Roman nodded and pressed the gas petal down further as he followed the seemingly endless road. He looked over at Dean as spoke, desperation still drenching his tone like tar.

"Are you?"

Dean didn't know to be truthful. But he nodded all the same. The adrenaline was wearing off and the pain in his wrist, shoulder, and head was becoming more difficult to ignore. The blood on his forehead had started to dry so he knew he wouldn't bleed out but he was sure his wrist was shattered. He couldn't curl his fingers and every bump in the road was agony and yet he found himself slightly more concerned about way Roman's face was contorted and he was obviously in pain.  
\--

The gravel road ended out onto a paved highway and Roman followed it until the sun started to set. Neither of them spoke until the sun had started to set behind the trees. They were both too concerned with watching the mirrors and cringing every time a car passed them on the highway.

When the paranoia died down some it was Dean who was the first to speak.

"Did you know him?"

Dean knew the answer. He knew by the tension that became obvious in Roman's shoulders and the way he didn't vocalize but instead nodded.

"Who is he?" Dean probably would've known if he had bothered to read through the file completely but all he'd really done was skim through for the floor plans and the general agenda. One of these day that shit would get him killed. 

"He goes by CM Punk. He's one of the best gunmen I've ever come in contact with. Taken out every target he's been assigned. He used to work for my boss but he took off not too long ago and never came back."

He looked around their surroundings and then to Dean before he spoke again. 

"I need some rest." 

Dean couldn't argue with that. He was tired and sore. Near death experiences were always exhausting for him. They drove in silence until they found a motel on the outskirts of town. They pulled in and Roman killed the ignition before leaning back in the seat and letting out a breath.

They sat in silence for a few minutes for Roman groaned and rubbed his hands up the steering wheel. 

"My car." 

He sounded so agonized that Dean felt bad for laughing at him but it was kinda funny. The windshield was cracked, the back glass busted out, and there were bullet holes through the body. Roman groaned again as Dean chuckled.

"It's not funny this car was brand new!"

"Its not anymore." Dean laughed and stuck his tongue out.

"Oh shut up."

Dean smiled. Though Roman was a virtual stranger Dean felt like he'd known him for years. Their exchanges came so naturally that the circumstance of their meeting seemed void.

Roman unbuckled his seat belt and cracked his neck.

"I'm gonna go get a room okay? I'll be right back." He opened his door and the whimper Dean let out was embarrassing to say the least but he didn't really care.

"Don't leave me here alone." His voice came out stronger than he thought it would and he was briefly proud for not sounding like a complete idiot. "I'm still cuffed to the door." He glanced at the door and then back to Roman, whose eyes softened and he sighed.

"Okay hang on." He had to kick the door to make it open. He walked around to Dean side and opened the door as gently as he could given the circumstance. He searched his pockets and unlocked the side of the cuffs hooked to the door. Dean winced as he drew his wrist to him.

"I wanna make sure its not broken. I'll take them off in the room." He put a hand on Dean's back as he helped him out of the car. Dean hadn't realized just how fucked up he was until Roman moved away from him to find the bags they'd gotten from the pharmacy and Dean was forced to hold himself up.

When Roman emerged from the back seat he put his free hand back on Dean's back to help guide him. Dean ignored the way his heart was fluttering and instead focused on walking.

Roman led him up to the desk and kept a hand on his back as he spoke. Dean was sure it was the only way he was still standing.

"One room two beds please?" 

The man at the desk didn't really look up from his magazine just held out a hand as he spoke. "Forty five for the night." 

Roman handed him cash and took the keys before giving Dean a light push and getting him back in motion. The room key said A10 which thankfully wasn't too far down the hallway. The minute they were inside Dean collapsed onto the closest bed face first with a groan.

His body was killing him and he was completely exhausted. He couldn't imagine how Roman felt. He turned his head as he felt a weight dip the mattress.

"Here." Roman tapped him on his back. "Sit up and let me look at you." Dean did as he told and reluctantly rolled himself over and sat up. Roman had some of the things he'd bought from the pharmacy laid on the bed. He'd let his hair down and Dean tried to ignore how it still looked soft despite their day.

Roman slipped a hand under Dean's shirt tail and tugged it up. Dean slipped his right arm out of the sleeve and then his left, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to muffle a whimper. Roman tucked some hair behind his ear and unlocked the cuff still on Dean's wrist first. His wrist was swollen and bruised. It hurt like hell with every feather light touch of Roman's fingers. 

He turned it in his hands and Dean cried out. He was normally good at keeping his reactions in check but his life wasn't in immediate danger like every other time and so he let his pain show. He'd had a damn long day after all.

"I'm sorry." Roman's voice was so quiet Dean barely heard him. He reached into the bag and got out some sports tape and an ace bandage. He got up and walked over to the desk the television was sitting on and grabbed a People's magazine before returning to the bed.

Dean watched him intently as he took Dean's hand into his own and folded the magazine in half under it. He curled Dean's fingers making Dean hiss. Roman shot him a concerned look and he nodded for the other to continue.

He grabbed the sports tape and wrapped it around Dean's forearm where the end of the magazine stopped to just at his knuckles on his hand.

Roman leaned down and tore the tape with his teeth before reaching and unwrapping the ace bandaged to wrap it around Dean's wrist as well. When he was finished he put the pins in the bandage and moved to check Dean's shoulder.

He rubbed his hand over the swollen joint and pressed the other hand to Dean's back. Dean noticed suddenly just how warm the other man was. His touch searing every nerve under Dean's skin as he pressed to check the status of Dean's injury.

Dean barred his teeth as Roman rubbed over the joint. He reached and grabbed the sports tape before standing and walking behind Dean. Dean could feel Roman's breath on his neck as he spoke. It sent a shiver through Dean's body.

"It'll be easier if I do it like this. I'll try not to hurt you too badly." He started wrapping Dean's shoulder as gently as he could and Dean wished he would hurt him. Wished he would snatch him and jab him and give him something other than the faint hint off strawberry candy on Roman's breath and the heat of his fingertips brushing across Dean's skin. Dean was sure his cheeks were flushed. He was probably flushed all over at this point.

Roman finished the wrap and pressed the tape down tight. He leaned down and took a big inhale off of Dean's neck that made his body twitch.

"You don't stink so you can shower tomorrow and I'll re wrap you."

He stepped around the bed with a smile on his face and Dean returned it, laying back on the bed in a spread eagle fashion.

"I however." Roman continued as he slipped his shirt over his head and folded it. "stink to high heaven so I'm going to shower." He stepped into the bathroom and left Dean alone. Dean listened to the tap being turned on and the soft humming of a tune Dean didn't recognize.

He thought about running. Roman had left him alone, no binds, no handcuffs, nothing. He could bolt right then completely unopposed but he was sore and tired and had no transportation besides Roman's beat up Cadillac that he was sure wouldn't make it down the street, so what was the point? He thought of calling Willy and letting him know he wasn't dead but he didn't feel like the lecture he was bound to get. He figured whatever repercussions were going to happen he would deal with them when they came. 

Dean ended up falling asleep before Roman even got out of the shower, too exhausted to keep his open any longer after he was left alone. He was curled up on his side still in his jeans and boots. Roman ended up taking pity on him and pulling his shoes off for him before climbing into bed himself. He ignored the little buzz he felt when he saw Dean didn't leave. He fell asleep a few minutes after his head hit the pillow and definitely didn't dream about waking up beside Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Another way to die- Alicia Keys ft Jack White


	5. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya chapter five is here. I know I know its short and I apologize but big stuff is coming for chapter six and I wanted to go ahead and get this one posted. I'm also trying to balance some prompts but I should be rolling out some more sub!Dean for those of you who keep up with my other projects. Anyways thank you so much for sticking around and reading and as always enjoy

Sunlight poured through the slightly parted curtains of the motel room window as the sound of the shower running filled Dean's ears. He blinked the sleep from his eyes as he sat up and looked around. His muscles were still ridiculously sore but at least he'd slept fairly easily through the night.

He popped his neck and swung his feet over the side of the bed. A bottle of water on the night stand caught his eye. A note was propped up on it with four pills sitting in front of it. He wrinkled his nose and picked the note up to read it. Overly neat cursive graced the page.

Take these pain pills when you get up. No arguments.

Dean rolled his eyes and snorted but popped the pills into his mouth, washing them down with the water. The shower cut off just as he stood to search for his shirt and a freshly cleaned Roman appeared from the bathroom. 

His hair was down and dripping all over the ridiculously tight shirt he had on. He smiled at Dean when he noticed him up and moving. Dean ignored the way his heart fluttered when Roman spoke.

"Oh good you're up. Did you get my note?"

Dean nodded as Roman filed his hygiene products into his bag and pulled a laptop out, going to sit on the opposite bed of Dean.

"You took the pills?"

Dean rolled his eyes. 

"Yes daddy." He walked over to Roman and tried to see over his laptop. "What are you doing?"

"Well," Roman furrowed his brows as he spoke. "I was going to contact Stephanie and see if they could send me another car but my ID isn't working and-" He stopped talking suddenly and bit his lip making Dean cock his head.

"What? How fucked are you?" Dean wasn't about to start using the 'we' word. His teeth found his bottom lip and worried it as he waited for Roman to disclose the status of fucked he was currently in.

"We're pretty fucked." He turned to laptop back to Dean. A photo of Roman was on the screen along with his credentials, identification number, and specialties. Dean swore under his breath when he got to mission status. In big red letters it read: Compromised. Shit.

"What does that mean?" Dean wasn't usually a praying man, but in the split hair seconds it took Roman to answer him, he was truly hoping someone was listening to his plea for mercy.

"Decommission." Roman's throat worked as he swallowed and Dean was scared to ask what decommission was exactly. He had a feeling it wasn't anything pleasant.

"How do they-"

"Death."

Dean's heart dropped into his stomach. His head grasped at straws as it searched for a logical way of survival. He wasn't sure why he cared so much. He could bail and this could all be Roman's problem and yet he found a part of his mind pleaded for him to stay, to help. He wanted to blame it on Regal. All the shitty lessons he'd taught Dean that made him feel empathy. He was better off looking out for himself and only him and now he was ruined but it wasn't Regal begging Dean to stay it was Dean. The gnawing feeling in his chest made him want to rip all of his hair out. He tapped his fist to his temple a few times to reset his mind. Think. Think. Think.

"What about that Punk guy? He left and they didn't kill him."

"They couldn't touch him if they wanted to let alone if they tried. I don't think I'll be so lucky." 

Dean could see the panic on Roman's face and he was torn between anger and panic himself. If he was so good under pressure like everyone told him why the hell was this so hard? He raked a hand through his hair and tried to collect his thoughts. He needed to think more logically and yet his head felt like static on an empty television channel.

"Okay. Okay, fuck. What will they do? Obviously they have to catch you first so what will they do?" He needed information. If he had enough information he could formulate a plan to get Roman out of this. He was excellent under pressure, everyone always told him so. 

"They'll send another agent to get me. They'll know where I am now this thing was standard issue it has a gps tracking device. Fuck I'm so stupid." Roman tucked some of his semi dry hair behind his ear before shutting the laptop and standing. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed softly, tossing the laptop onto the bed. 

"I know we barely know each other Dean. I know not two days ago I had you handcuffed to my door. Hell I probably shouldn't even say this but-" He extended a hand to Dean and Dean found his thumb nail between his teeth under the threat of being bitten off. "Run with me Dean"

Dean's brain shut down. Well, and truly, shut down. He just stood there, staring at Roman's hand. He bit his lip gently and before his brain could gain control again he found himself nodding. His own hand reaching out and taking Roman's just as his brain screamed for him to stop. He ignored the voice in his head telling him this was a mistake and instead focused on the relieved smile on Roman's face.

The longer haired man moved past Dean and started to collect the bags in the floor. Dean found his shirt beside the night stand and slipped it on in silence. He was still worrying his bottom lip when Roman turned to him and spoke.

"Lets go."

Dean nodded and they headed out to the parking lot. Dean wondered just what the hell he'd done.  
\--

"We're gonna need another car."

Roman almost looked offended. Dean raised his eyebrows and pointed to the beat up Cadillac.

"That thing probably isn't gonna crank let alone take us anywhere. Get your shit. I'll go find us a ride."

Roman looked like he wanted to argue. His mouth opened and closed like he was searching for a logical argument before he sighed in defeat and headed over to his car. Dean smiled and shook his head heading across the parking lot.

There weren't many people staying at the motel so pickings were slim. Dean tried the door on a few cars before he actually found one that was unlocked. It was a Chevrolet truck with an extended cab so Roman could stash his weapons. 

Dean looked around before climbing in. He checked the sun visors and glove box for a key and came up empty. He huffed and slid into the passenger seat. He kicked the steering wheel a few times until he heard a crack. Bingo.

Dean smiled and wiggled back into the drives seat. He reached behind the ignition switch and pulled the wires so he could see them better. Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, Dean carefully twisted the red and pink wires together. Once they were secure he touched the yellow wire to the other two a few times until he heard the engine roar to life. He smirked smugly to himself as he shut the door and pulled the truck over to Roman who was staring at him in disbelief. 

He hopped out of the truck and started piling Roman's things into the backseat. They probably had a limited amount of time before someone heard the truck running and came to investigate. Dean knew just how nosy people were all too well.

Roman climbed into the driver's seat and Dean climbed into the passenger catching the look on Roman's face.

"Did you hot wire this thing?" Roman was eyeing the steering wheel like it had disrespected him.

"Yeah how else did you want me to crank it?"

"I can't." He put his hands on the still crooked wheel and frowned. "I cant drive this."

Dean rolled his eyes, reaching across the center console and snatched the wheel back straight.

"Don't be such a baby."

Roman stuck his tongue out at Dean and cast a longing gaze at his Cadillac before pulling out of the parking lot. Dean rubbed his shoulder and smiled. He tried to ignore the voice nagging at him about how much of a terrible idea this was and instead tried to focus on making a plan to keep them alive.  
\--

They drove for an hour or so before they needed gas. Dean reckoned they could fill up and use the tank before they would need to change vehicles. This one was shitty enough it probably wouldn't be reported too quickly.

"So what's the plan captain?" 

Dean had been trying to think of one the whole time they were driving but nothing was coming to mind that didn't end in them dying. He figured it wouldn't hurt to see if Roman had anything in mind.

"Well," Roman's grip on the wheel tightened as he spoke, "Don't die." A smile came to his face and Dean noticed a small gap in his teeth that was kinda cute. " Don't die And keep you alive."

Dean furrowed his brow at that. He turned in his seat to look at Roman who was avoiding his gaze and pretending to focus on the road. The smile never left his face though and Dean was pretty sure his heart was gonna beat right out of his chest. His face got hot and he turned to look out the window.

They both stayed silent as they drove along until they found a gas station off the side of the street they were on. Roman pulled the truck into a pump and killed the engine. Dean watched him in his peripheral vision as he pushed some loose strands of hair behind his ear. He turned to Dean and opened his mouth before closing it and biting his lip. It took him a minute before he actually spoke and Dean put a hand up to his mouth to hide his smile.

"There is someone I could call." He worked his jaw in contemplation, "I kind of didn't want to drag him into this but I don't think we're gonna have much of a choice if we wanna live." 

"Who is he?" Dean didn't really have any place to ask the question, but the unwanted twinge of jealousy made his tongue move before his mind had any say in it. That had been happening allot and Dean was starting to get annoyed. He felt like a damn school girl. Not that he had a crush or anything.

"Another agent. He's practically my brother." A smile was on Roman's face as he opened the door and headed into the store. Dean felt like an idiot but his pride wouldn't let him apologize.

Roman returned to pump gas shortly. He filled the truck up and climbed back into the cab with a bag. He pulled a bottle of water from it and nudged Dean's leg with it. Whatever spite was in Dean's veins died out and he took the water gratefully.

"Thanks." He twisted the cap off and took a few long swallows. He didn't miss the way Roman watched his throat for a few seconds before rummaging around in the bag some more. He pulled out those stupid strawberry candies he ate all the time next as well as a prepaid minute phone. He chucked the empty bag into the backseat and powered the phone up. He tapped a number into it and put it to his ear.

Dean counted the rings it took for the person on the other line to pick up. One, two, three, four. The person picked up and Dean strained to listen without being too god awful obvious. He couldn't really hear much but Roman's replies gave him something to go on.

"Hey, no, don't hang up! Its me. Its Roman!"

Silence and Dean counted ten beats of his heart before the other person spoke again.

"Yeah I know man I know. But I need your help." 

Roman was biting his bottom lip in a mirror to Dean. He had his eyebrows knitted together as he listened. Dean desperately needed a cigarette.

"Please will you help me?" Roman sounded as desperate as Dean felt and Dean wanted to jump through the phone and strangle whomever was on the other end. Waiting for the answer felt like waiting on paint to dry. Dean bit off his thumb, index, middle, and ring finger nails before Roman spoke again.

"Thank you thank you thank you! You're amazing Uce you don't even know!" 

Dean sighed as Roman continued his praises and hung up. He turned to Dean with the biggest smile on his face and nodded.

"He'll help us. We just have to make it to his house without dying first." 

Dean laughed and leaned back, propping his feet up on the dashboard near the window.

"Piece of cake."

Roman started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"So where are we headed?" We, because he was already in too deep when he agreed to run like an idiot. We, because the voice in his head that opposed this whole thing had gone quiet in defeat. We, because of the way Roman made him feel. We, because it didn't taste as sour on his tongue as he thought it would.

"Davenport, Iowa."

Dean wrinkled his nose making Roman laugh as he unwrapped one of his candies. It was sort of endearing how he was always munching them one way or another. It made Dean feel strange, like a light was just turned on in his chest and he couldn't turn it off. 

\--

The drive was nearly fifteen hours. It would've been about thirteen but they stopped off at a diner on the way and had some breakfast. After that they headed to Walmart so Dean could buy some necessities and a pack of cigarettes.

They were getting close and Dean was on his fifth cigarette, window rolled down and his legs propped up near the mirror when Roman's side eyed glances finally annoyed him enough to say something. He took a long drag off the cancer stick and exhaled dramatically as he spoke.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No it's something." He took another drag and Roman frowned.

"Those things will kill you, you know? They're not healthy."

Dean giggled, it was disgusting, but he giggled and took another drag. It was cute how concerned Roman was. Normally Dean would've been annoyed at the high horse remarks but for some reason Roman's concern was just cute.

"Like that candy is so much better. How much sugar is in those things per serving huh? A bucket full?"

"They're healthier than all that tar and rat poison in those cancer dispensers."

Dean took on last drag and flicked his 'cancer dispenser' out the window.

"We kill people for a living I'm pretty sure I wont live long enough for cancer." 

It sounded a little more cynical when it came out than it did in Dean's head but it wasn't exactly a lie. They had met under circumstance of death. Cancer was the least of Dean's worries but the look Roman gave him followed by the soft silence made Dean want to take it back and apologize. He didn't like that feeling in fact he loathed it.

They drove in a long awkward silence that made Dean twitch in his seat. Roman was looking around carefully as he pulled into a neighborhood. It had nice, large houses and Dean knew they were expensive. He wasn't exactly poor anymore but nice shit like this had always made him uncomfortable.

Roman made a few turns through the neighborhood with the spacious lawns before he pulled into the driveway of a large house. It was fairly plain and almost exactly identical to the other houses in the neighborhood. Dean's skin crawled.

Roman killed the engine of their stolen tuck but didn't move to immediately get out. He unbuckled his seat belt, turning to face Dean completely and Dean's throat felt like it was closing up. He'd only ever felt that feeling once after he'd made it back from an assignment where he'd been captured and tortured for information. Regal had yelled at him until his eyes burned with the threat of tears and then he'd smothered Dean in a hug and told him how afraid he was that Dean wouldn't have come back.

Dean never forgot that feeling. It was like having your heart ripped out of your chest as your mouth was being pumped full of water. He twitched in his seat as he waited for they shit storm to come but it didn't. Instead, Roman spoke in a soft tone that could be expected for a child.

"Don't ever let me hear you say something like that again. You understand?" 

Dean couldn't speak, his throat felt like sandpaper and he nodded instead, avoiding Roman's general direction with his whole body. 

Roman swallowed and opened the door. As he slid out, Dean heard him continue.

"There are people that care about you Dean."

He opened the back door to the truck and pulled his bags with his clothes and heavy artillery in them out and slung them onto his back and shoulder. Dean waited until he headed to the door and up the stone steps before he climbed out and collected the things he'd bought from Walmart and headed to the house behind Roman.

The apparent person who Roman had called was on the porch, currently wrapped up in a hug from Roman as he struggled to free himself from the large man's grip. Dean stood a few feet away and shifted awkwardly side to side.

Roman turned to him with a big smile on his face in perfect contrast to his, admittedly, terrifying demeanor just minutes before. He held out a hand, twisting it in motion for Dean to come closer. He obliged and Roman smiled at the other guy standing before them.

"Seth this is Dean. We kinda ended up stuck together. Dean this is Seth my brother in all but blood."

The guy, Seth, was nothing like Dean had expected appearance wise. Dean had thought he'd be a clean cut suburban dad type but instead standing before Dean with an extended hand was an unshaven man with half blond half brunet hair and a Ramones shirt on.

When Dean shook his hand and said "Its a pleasure." It was as sincere as he had been in a long time.

"The same to you." Seth had said as he shook Dean's hand, "Though not under the best circumstances." He cast a glare at Roman, who rubbed the back of his neck as he cast his own glance to the ground, "For whatever he's dragged you into." He smiled and let Dean's hand go before turning and wrapping both arms around Dean and Roman and leading them through the door. 

"Welcome to my humble abode."

Roman cast an apologetic smile at Dean to which Dean shook his head. Maybe just maybe they had a chance of survival. With prayer and a little luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is Run- Daughter


	6. Skyfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all goes to shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes chapter six very next day. Theres some goodies in this chapter too I hope you'll enjoy. Thank you so much for all the comments and Kudos I'm really enjoying writing this story for y'all I hope you enjoy

Hiding out in Seth's home was a lot easier than Dean had previously anticipated. He was a pretty cool guy, Dean could admit. He was easy to get along with, had a great sense of humor, and above all could probably cook Gordon Ramsay under a table. The subtle little twinge of jealousy Dean was feeling was easy to keep out of mind when they were all sitting around the table eating and telling old mission stories. 

It felt natural, like this was what Dean was supposed to be doing all along. As strange as it sounded, Dean felt like this was where he belonged. Like they were meant to be this trio of perfect strangers. He could almost forget they were here because of the soft nudge of impending death.  
\--

They had been at Seth's house for about a week now, carefully laying out a game plan in case of infiltration during the day and having dinner like a strange little family in the evenings. Dean had come to learn during stories over dinner that Seth worked for the same company as Roman and that they were occasionally partners when their respective bosses didn't have them on solo missions. He'd learned that Roman was of Samoan heritage and that he had two twin cousins also in the business who were a pain in his ass. He learned that Seth was one of the best hand to hand comparatives in the business and that he loved music almost as much as he loved his job. It was fascinating and Dean reciprocated by telling them about how he'd come into the business and how Regal had helped him despite the circumstance of their meeting and of his own upbringing on the streets.

For once Dean didn't feel like he had to hide anything nor that he had to lie to keep himself safe. He felt perfectly safe with two near strangers. It was one of the strangest feelings Dean had felt in a long time but not unwelcome in the slightest. He felt like he was home in just a short week.  
\--

On the eighth day they were there, Roman had asked Dean to walk with him. Dean accepted and after grabbing a pistol and giving a shout of their intentions to a cooking Seth they headed out, walking shoulder to shoulder down the street. Dean wasn't entirely sure where they were headed but he figured it didn't really matter.

He and Roman walked for a few minutes in silence. Dean was enjoying the mild weather, it wasn't nearly as hot as it was in Las Vegas and a perfect balance between the cold of New York. It made his mood better even if he didn't know it.

Roman had his hair pulled back into a half ponytail. It was admittedly adorable and sexy all at the same time. Dean had been admiring his appearance allot in this past week. He was allot more beautiful when he was standing tall during firing practice in Seth's backyard than he was cramped in the cab of a vehicle. Dean thought he could get used to looking at Roman forever. Now that was a terrifying thought.

"I'm glad you came with me."

The statement caught Dean off guard. He stopped in his tracks as he calculated the words carefully. They sounded so foreign, like another language and yet they felt so perfectly right that Dean couldn't really grasp the thought a first.

Roman turned and smiled but kept walking, making Dean trot to catch up. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out so he shut it and bumped Roman's shoulder with his own instead.

"Thank you."

Now that was another language. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard those words said to him genuinely. It made his heart skip a beat. He furrowed his brow as he tried to remember the proper response to that combination but nothing was coming to mind. He gnawed his bottom lip and blurted out the only thing he could think of.

"Don't." It wasn't the right response, that he was sure of but it was all he could think of. You're welcome was customary but it didn't feel right. He made the choice to come so why should Roman be thanking him. It was baffling really but the larger man smiled again and draped an arm over Dean's shoulders as they continued on.

"You're very eccentric Dean." Roman squeezed his arm and Dean in turn draped an arm around Roman's waist. Good god did it feel right.

"You're like no one I've ever met."

Dean smirked and said, "You're just saying that cause you wanna get into my pants."

"Yep." Dean was sure it was a joke and he huffed a laugh but Roman didn't and those pretty grey eyes just a few shades off from Dean's own sparkled in the sunlight, making Dean's mouth go dry.

They walked in silence the rest of the way back, Dean's arm around Roman's waist, Roman's own arm around his shoulders and a blush high on Dean's cheeks that was more persistent than a hang over and a hell of allot more embarrassing.

Seth had breakfast done when they got back in. He seemed to go all out every time he got near the stove. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, the works all littered the table as Dean and Roman walked in, but it didn't stop there as the two toned man had just finished a fresh pot of coffee. He turned and leaned against the counter with a smug look on his face as Roman took a long inhale followed by a loud sigh.

"You're gonna make me fat." 

Dean had sat down and grabbed a piece of bacon to nibble on as Seth snorted his reply.

"You wont get fat if you exercise."

"Running for your life counts as exercise."

"Well you're not running anymore are you?"

Seth smirked and plopped down across from Dean as Roman took the chair next to him. Dean had fixed his plate and was enjoying the exchange.

Roman rolled his eyes and fixed his own play before he spoke again.

"I hate you."

"I love you too brother."

They both burst out laughing which made Dean smile. They definitely felt like a family and Dean wanted the moment to last forever.  
\--

After breakfast Seth had made the announcement that he would be heading out to stock up on more guns and ammunition as a safety percussion more than anything but Dean and Roman had agreed it was for the best. They ended up staying behind seeing as they were being tracked and hunted like fucking animals.

Dean was lounging on the couch when Roman came waltzing in and lifted Dean's legs up to sit under them. Dean rolled over so he could look at the longer haired man. He'd trimmed his beard allowing Dean to appreciate his jaw line better.

"Nice."

"Hmm?" 

Ooops. "Nothing." Dean smiled, making Roman shake his head and lean back against the couch with his eyes closed. Dean watched him for a few minutes in silence before he got bored and needed some noise.

"I've been meaning to ask. What does your tattoo mean?" Dean leaned up so he could pay attention. The tattoo wasn't exactly simple. Samoan tribal running across Roman's chest and down the length of his right arm in intricate ink tendrils that hardly left any free space.

The long haired an smiled and pulled his sleeve up onto his shoulder to look at his own tattoo.

"Oh you know the usual. Family, protection, love, honor, God. Every symbol had a different meaning." He smiled fondly at the ink in a way that warmed Dean's very soul. 

"Do you have any?"

Dean shook his head. He had always wanted to keep his defining characteristics to a minimal in case he ever ended up in a police line up. He rolled his shirt tail up though and pointed to a scar just above his hip bone.

"Nah but I got this in a knife fight with a drug dealer." He smirked at the memory of his youth. "I fucked him up." Roman snorted and Dean continued. He pointed to a long scar from the center of his chest to his belly button. "I got this when my mission got compromised. The really wanted to know who I worked for."

Roman leaned closer at that one. He ran a finger along the length of the scar and lit fire across Dean's skin like the very shard of glass that had put the scar there in the first place. Dean had to repress the shutter that threatened to rack his body as Roman frowned. 

"You didn't talk?" He looked so concerned that it made Dean giggle.

"Hell no." He sat up and tugged his shirt up to his neck before turning around. He never really saw them but he knew his back was fucking riddled in scars. People always went for the back when they were torturing him like fucking amateurs. He waited for the hiss of either disgust or unfelt pain to leave Roman's lips before he pulled his shirt back down and turned around. 

"Didn't talk then either." He knew he looked smug but Roman let out a nervous little laugh and shook his head.

"You're tougher than me." He shuddered a little, probably at the thought of being cut up reaffirming his pretty boy status in Dean's mind. Dean smiled like an idiot, just staring at Roman as the other man bit his lip and stared at Dean's own. He leaned towards Dean slowly and Dean's heart beat sped up. Oh shit oh fuck. He was sure his blood pressure was through the roof and he found himself leaning in as well. Roman's lips were just about to brush his own when Seth came busting through the door and slamming it shut with his body, making Dean jump to the other side of the couch.

"We may have a problem." He locked the door and looked out the peep hole on the door making Roman stand and go into his power stance.

"What? What's wrong?!" Roman had his fists clenched at his side which had Dean's adrenaline rising up in rapid bursts of his heart.

"I think Bryan and Orton just followed me here. I think they know you're here." Seth motioned for Roman to come over to him where he could look out the peep hole. It only took Roman one glance before he was in full fight mode. It was infectious and in seconds Dean was fucking ready.

"What the hell are a Bryan and Orton?"

"Our death if we don't get our asses into gear."

It was Seth that answered him as the two toned man came around the coffee table and grabbed Dean's arm to tug him along. Dean followed him down the stairs and to what should have been the basement but resembled more of a war room than anything. Seth had toy everywhere. Guns mounted on the walls, grenades on the tables, knives on a magnetic board. If death wasn't ringing the doorbell Dean probably would've come in his jeans.

Seth had slipped into a black tactical vest similar to Dean's own but with more pockets and was loading up on every weapon he could get his hands on. He tossed a vest to Dean as he jumped around the room.

"Put that on and grab anything you could kill someone with. This is war!"

Dean didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed a thigh holster combo and stuck the biggest pistol he could get his hands on as well as the biggest fucking knife he could find and stick them in. Next he grabbed a gun to keep in hand and some extra clips for both before searching the tables in the room, coming to stop as the very middle one. Bingo. 

Dean emptied the box of razor blades onto the table and stuck one in his mouth, pushing it up against the roof of his mouth earning him a strange look as from Seth as he was loading a third tactical vest with weaponry.

"What? I used to be a street rat." With that Dean headed back to Roman. He was watching the windows quietly as two men one short with a beard and the other taller with close cropped hair walked around casing the house.

Seth appeared behind Dean and tossed the vest to Roman who slipped it on and took the gun from the spot it was mounted, cocking it and getting into his tell tale shooting stance. Seth was crouched just at Dean's feet and Dean had his pistol clenched tight in his fist. Waiting, waiting, waiting. It didn't feel like he was breathing but he had to be because he hadn't collapsed and time felt still but it couldn't be because Bryan and Orton had disappeared and the waiting was maddening. All Dean could hear in his ears was his heart beat.

A crash. The sound of glass being broken and hitting the tile floor and the clock seemed to go into over drive. The three of them were against walls. Roman near the door, Seth and Dean just across the opening for the kitchen against the wall as well. 

Seth reached out and tugged Dean's pant leg, pulling him back and out of the way as they heard calculating foot steps come through the kitchen. Dean held his breath just as the man with the beard came through the entrance of the kitchen and Seth tackled him to the floor kicking Roman and Dean into the gear. 

In perfect unison they jumped through the entry way and into the kitchen, opening fire on the close cropped man. He countered by flipping the table over and taking cover behind it with a laugh.

Seth was struggling with the bearded man in the living room. Dean could hear the crashes of things being turned over but he kept his focus on the man behind the table. He was laughing as he spoke.

"You know you are way too predictable Reigns."

Dean could hear a gun being loaded and cocked. He calibrated his stance for the best shot as Roman spoke in a deep near growl Dean had never heard before. It simultaneously arousing and horrifying.

"Man shut the hell up Orton!" Roman was stepping to the side slowly. Dean stayed rooted to his spot so he could cover Roman just right.

Orton popped up and got a shot off that made Roman have to drop to the floor to avoid being hit. Dean pulled the trigger the second he saw movement though and the bullet was only a fraction of an inch from Orton's head which made him fall back behind the table with a flourish of curses.

Dean let out a breath and cast a look at Roman to see if he was alright. Roman nodded and climbed back to his feet.

"Whose your dog Reigns? He's a much better shot than Rollins."

Roman ignored him as he stepped to the side some more. Dean knew he was going to try and drive Orton out from behind the table and he was more than ready to shut this guy up.

"Was he worth betraying Hunter for? Huh? Was he worth your life? You must really like him Reigns."

Dean had enough. "You must really like the sound of your own voice."

Roman cast his gaze at Dean and Dean nodded. Maybe he could keep Orton distracted long enough for Roman to get a shot off. The larger man stepped over again. He raised his gun ready to shoot.

"Ooooh he speaks."

Roman had the shot. He had his gun raised and was just about to pull the trigger when Bryan came running into the kitchen with Seth on his heels. He didn't make it far enough to actually do anything as Seth took him down and pinned him, raining down blow after blow however it was enough of a distraction for Orton to come out from behind the table and on top of Dean.

He landed a few blows before he was yanked off by Roman and thrown halfway across the room. Roman tugged Dean up to his feet. Dean spat his razor blade across the floor after it split his lip from the hits as Roman turned back to Orton. Bryan had rolled Seth with those legs and taken control, though it wasn't long lived as Dean fired off a shot and caught him in the arm allowing Seth to get himself free.

Dean turned back to Roman and charged forward to help. He slid across the floor and took Orton's legs out from under him dragging him to the ground so Roman could get a shot off. Just as he aimed his gun, Bryan jumped on his back and fuck if his legs weren't strong, took Roman to the ground. 

Dean heard his gun go off until it clicked, empty of ammo, as he struggled with Orton himself. Orton had knocked his primary pistol out of his hand and Dean couldn't reach for the one on his side as he was busy blocking fists. He wrapped his legs around Orton's waist and rolled them so he could reach for his gun. Orton's hand found it first making Dean have to resort to his knife. He put it the blade to Orton's throat just as Orton put the gun to his head. He had a smirk on his face as if he had Dean as good as dead. It made Dean laugh. He stuck his tongue out and smiled.

"You think you can shoot me before I can slit your throat?" He applied a bit of pressure that made Orton's eyes widen a bit. His grip on the pistol tightened and Dean's smile widened. They stayed in a deadlock, daring each other to make the first move.

It was Orton who moved first. A big right hook to the side of Dean's head that put black in his vision. He groaned and cradled his head kicking for a second as Orton got his footing under him and aimed the gun at Dean. Dean didn't have much time to react but in the time provided he threw his knife and nailed Orton in wrist, successfully pinning him to the wall and causing him to drop the gun with an agonizing cry. Dean laughed and sprang to his feet, going to get his gun. He smirked as he cocked the gun and put it to Orton's temple.

"You came after the wrong dog." He pulled the trigger without a second thought.

Roman, Seth, and Bryan had apparently gone out the backdoor because Dean heard gunshots. He took off out the door, scanning the yard. His eyes locked onto Seth on the ground at Roman's feet in obvious pain and Roman in a dead lock with Bryan. They had their guns aimed at each other. Roman had his back to Dean and Dean didn't think he could hit Bryan without hitting Roman. 

It was becoming obvious that Seth had been hit by his moans of agony though and Dean figured he needed to weigh the pros and cons before either A: Seth bled to death in his own back yard or B: Bryan got the balls to fire and killed Roman right there. No that was unthinkable. 

Dean took a deep breath, raised his gun sighed, and pulled the trigger. He heard Roman grunt and both he and Bryan fell. Dean's legs were working instantly, carrying him over to Roman and Seth who were both groaning now.

Bryan was dead. Dean knew that by the brain matter splattered across Seth's white picket fence so he didn't bother checking. He instead focused on Seth and Roman. Roman was clutching his shoulder and cussing like a sailor. Seth was a little worse off it seemed. He was doubled over and clutching his stomach and once Dean was able to unroll him and check it was clear he was fucked. The bullet had gone through his vest and hit him in the gut, though Dean couldn't really tell where nor if it missed the important stuff.

Dean had to think. They obviously couldn't go to a hospital but the wound was in a pretty vital area plus there was a very high chance of exsanguination. Roman would be okay. Shoulder wounds are never that bad but the stomach. That was cause for worry.

"Okay Okay fuck. Roman I'm so fucking sorry are you alright?" He got a weak thumbs up and a nod which didn't make him feel any better but gave him subtle permission so to speak to take Seth inside.

Dean uncurled the two toned man again and draped one of his arms over his shoulders, getting him to his feet with a shout of pain.

"I know I know c'mon." Dean had to all but drag him back into the house with a foal footed Roman in tow. 

Roman pushed the table back upright and that was all he was good for because he collapsed against the wall clutching his shoulder as Dean pushed Seth onto the table. His mind was in over drive as he ran to search the cabinets for tools to use. He'd only ever removed bullets from himself twice and never from somewhere so vital.

He pulled some vodka out of the cabinet, a pack of toothpicks off the counter, and some cooking twine out of a drawer. The decorative towels from the stove came with him as well as he went over and dropped them into a chair. 

"Okay listen Seth listen. I've gotta get the bullet out so I can sew you up okay?"

Seth groaned but nodded. He was obviously trying not to squirm too much but Dean knew all too well how hard it was not to.

Dean unfastened the buckles on the vest and peeled it back. He pushed the shirt Seth had on underneath up past the bullet wound and frowned. He was bleeding profusely and Dean was starting to get worried.

"Fuck. Roman! Roman please I need you." The adrenalin had him shaking, that or the fear. He was, however amazingly focused.

Roman joined him at his side with a groan and Dean felt the need to apologize again but he needed to focus. "Can you hand me the vodka and then I need you to hold him down."

"Hold me down wait no! Ah fuck!"

"See quit fucking moving you asshole I'm trying to save your life!"

Roman snorted at that and handed Dean the alcohol before going over and pinning Seth's shoulders to the table. Dean could tell he was in pain and he felt awful but again focus. He took a big swig of vodka before dumping some on his hands as well as one of the rags. He pressed the rag to Seth's wound making the two toned man hiss and struggle against Roman's grip. 

"I'm so sorry."

That was all the warning Dean was going to provide. With a glance to Roman, he pushed his middle finger into the wound up to his knuckles. To say the scream was bloodcurdling would be the understatement of a lifetime. It made Dean nauseous but he pushed against the skin more and curled his finger in different directions, trying to seek the bullet out as quickly as possible. He felt the tip of the metal and withdrew his finger.

Seth was withing and twisting so hard that Roman was struggling to keep him still. Dean put a hand on Seth's forehead and caught his pained gaze.

"I can feel it Seth I'm gonna take it out. It missed anything vital but its in there pretty good. You're gonna have to bare with me. Okay?"

Dean waited for Seth nod or some semblance of it before he stuffed one of the rags into Seth mouth and pushed two fingers up into the wound. Seth strained against Roman's grip and let out another chilling scream muffled by the towel in his mouth. He was kicking wildly despite Roman's pleas for him to relax. Dean knew they were falling on deaf ears. You don't hear shit in a situation like this. 

Despite the jerking movements of Seth's body Dean caught the bulled with the tips of his fingers and pulled it down slowly. Once it was down some he got a better grip and pulled it out with a sickening slurp. Dean laughed and stuck out his tongue as he eyed the bullet. He'd gotten this far now he just needed to sew him up.

He poured some more vodka over Seth's wound, eliciting another bout of screams under the rag. Dean got a tooth pick and the cooking twine. He wasn't entirely sure how he was going to do this but he didn't really have time to mull it over. 

With a mumbled apology he pushed the toothpick as hard as he could until it pierced the skin around the open wound. He followed it with the twine in a zig-zag pattern until it resembled a small corset stitch. By the time he was finished Seth had passed out completely. Dean cut the twine and tied off four times before he backed away against the wall to stare at Seth who looked so helpless on the table.

Roman brushed the loose strands of sweat soaked hair from Seth's forehead before he stormed towards Dean. The look on his face made Dean's eyes widen as he started to back away.

"Wait, Roman, please Just wait," His back hit the corner as Roman crowded him and fear made his legs shake. "Please I'm sorry I-"

Dean was suddenly cut off, not by the blow he was expecting to receive but by plush lips pressed against his in a desperate needy kiss. It took his mind a minute to start working but when it did he returned the kiss greedily. Roman's hand found its way into his hair as he deepened the kiss. Dean didn't want the moment to end. It was like drinking a good hot cup of Joe on a cold day. It made his legs shake and his pulse quicken. But just as it had started it ended and Roman pulled away, choosing to rest his head on Dean's shoulder instead, his hand still tangled in the curls at the base of his neck.

"Thank you."

Those words again but Roman's tone relayed it didn't require a reply. Dean wrapped his arms around the longer haired man's waist and squeezed and they stood in an embrace until they heard Seth whimper from the table.

Roman turned to look at him, his eyes softening as he turned back to Dean.

"We should take him upstairs. He's lost allot of blood. He needs to rest."

Dean knew about blood loss all too well. He nodded, stepping out of the corner and over to the table. He picked Seth up princess style before turning to Roman. He looked absolutely beautiful all disheveled and exhausted.

"I'll take him. You just get yourself patched up before you pass out too."

Roman smiled and nodded. 

"Yes sir."

Dean smiled, heading out of the room and up the stairs. He carried Seth easily, placing him on his bed. He unlaced his boots,pulling them off before moving to unbutton his pants and pull them off as well. He carefully pulled the tactical vest the rest of the way off as well as the shirt underneath before pulling the covers up over his body. 

He looked so pitiful laying there. He was pale from blood loss and his features were contorted in pain. Dean sighed, running a hand through Seth's two toned hair.

"I'm sorry." He killed the light and headed back down the stairs to find Roman sitting shirtless on the sofa with his shoulder bandaged up. As sick as it was to think, Dean found it incredibly sexy.

He joined the Samoan on the couch which earned him a smile.

"How is he?"

"Out cold."

Roman nodded at that, letting out a long sigh and leaning back against the couch. He looked absolutely beautiful to Dean completely exhausted. They sat there quietly as the sun slowly started to set. Dean wondered what they were going to do about the dead bodies on the property but decided it was better on the back burner. He didn't feel like digging a grave anyways.

He was much more interested in that warm coffee feeling he got earlier in that spontaneous kiss. He bit his lip and slid closer to Roman, who peeked out of the corner of his eyes at Dean.

"Will you do that again?" He inched a little closer, making Roman lean up with a smile.

"Do what?" 

Dean smiled and tucked a leg up under him so he could face Roman with his full body. Roman had a playful smirk on his face despite the pain he was probably in. It made Dean feel wanted. He tried to fight the smile threatening to show.

"What you did earlier." He didn't miss he way Roman licked his lips as his eyes fell onto Dean's own.

"Oh," He drawled and turned towards Dean so that they were facing each other fully. "You mean this." His hand came out and caught the curls in the back of Dean's head, crushing their lips together in an electric kiss. Dean wasn't sure what to do wit his hands so he settled for resting one on Roman's good shoulder and the other gripped the couch as Roman deepened the kiss.

Dean was only slightly in his right mind at the moment. He hardly noticed Roman pushing him back to get between his legs. He was too preoccupied with the way Roman was licking into his mouth like he was the best thing the Samoan had ever tasted. The electric currents he was feeling racked his body in the form of violent shudders that made Roman laugh and catch Dean's bottom lip between his teeth, opening the spit from the razor blade back up. The pain went strait to Dean's dick and he moaned his approval as Roman chose to chase the stream of blood on Dean's chin with his tongue right back into Dean's mouth.

The moan Dean let out was absolutely filthy. He was almost glad Seth was upstairs passed out so he couldn't hear how desperate Dean sounded. Roman didn't seem to mind though. In fact, he seemed to be loving every second of it.

He broke their kiss to wrench Dean's shirt up over his head and throw it as far away from them as possible. He practically snatched the belt out of Dean's jeans, tossing behind him with a smirk that would put the devil to shame.

Dean watched as Roman unfastened the button on his jeans with ease and Dean half wondered just how many times he'd done this. His hands stilled just inside the waist band of Dean's boxers. Dean's heart beat increased with every second Roman loomed over him. Without warning Roman yanked Dean's jeans and boxers off in one swift motion. He wrapped his hand around Dean's erection as he attacked Dean's mouth again. The cut just at the corner of his lip stung delightfully with every movement of Roman's mouth as the Samoan's talented hand sent fire up his cock with every flick of his wrist. It was completely overwhelming and entirely delicious.

Dean broke the kiss with a moan. "Just fuck me already."

Roman licked his lips slowly as he rested his hand on his jeans, ready to flick the button loose but making no move to actually do it. That smirk returned to his lips as he stared down at Dean like he was prey.

"You want me to fuck you?"

Dean bit his lip and nodded.

"Whats the magic word?"

Dean groaned as Roman stroked up his shaft a few times.

"Please!" It came out as more of a groan than an actual word but Roman hummed in approval and released Dean's cock to remove his jeans. He wasn't wearing any underwear underneath and Dean gulped at Roman's impressive manhood.

Dean had been fucked by men before but he couldn't ever recall anyone having a cock quite as large as Roman's nor as perfect. Dean licked his lips while Roman gave his own cock a few languid strokes. His voice went deep and made Dean melt when he spoke.

"Do you want my cock, Dean?" 

Dean groaned and nodded, arching his hips up off the couch. Roman pushed his hips back down slowly, planting a kiss on his chest, to the scar above his hip, and finally to the tip of his cock. Every press of the Samoan's lips was like a cigarette burn and Dean absolutely relished in it. 

"We need lube." Roman went to move and it was probably a bad decision on Dean's part, hell, he didn't know why he did it but he reached out and pulled Roman back down, kissing him roughly before mumbling.

"Don't need it." It was stupid, he knew, but he didn't really care and though Roman looked a bit dubious he complied and instead stuck two fingers into his mouth, coating them in saliva before circling them around Dean's entrance. He probed the tip of his index finger inside before withdrawing it almost immediately, making Dean groan and shake his hips.

"You're a fucking tease."

Roman probed a finger back inside a little deeper this time before repeating his actions.

"Mmmhm." He leaned down and kissed Dean deep before leaning back and spitting into his hand. He slicked his cock and leaned back down to kiss Dean once more as he pressed inside him.

Dean groaned into Roman's mouth as he sank himself balls deep into the blond. It was as much pleasurable as it was painful, the unfamiliar burning of stretching skin as his body accommodated the intrusion. 

Roman seemed to be waiting for Dean's approval to move, killing time by sucking bruises into the skin on Dean's throat until Dean became restless and started rocking his own hips for friction.

"Eager aren't we?" Roman teased as he bit down and drew his hips back before sinking back into Dean in one swift thrust. It rocked his whole body making him moan guttural and loud.

"Fuck." Dean let his eyes close as he rested his hands on either side of Roman's back. Roman was starting to quicken his pace, shooting static electricity up Dean's spine with every connection of skin on skin.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck!" Roman latched onto Dean's neck with his teeth as he fucked into Dean relentlessly. His body was on fire everywhere Roman's body was touching his own. He damn near felt drunk and it was fucking amazing. He wasn't entirely sure if it was because he hadn't been fucked well in almost half a year or if it was because of the way Roman made him feel but he was pretty sure it was the latter.

"Fuck you're so beautiful." Roman's voice, heavy and raspy, made Dean's heart leap and a moan escape his throat. "Fuck say my name." That perfect cock was hitting Dean's prostate with every thrust. He didn't have to be told twice to keep those lovely sensations going.

"Ohhh fuuucckkk!" Dean dragged out the moan making Roman roll his hips perfectly. "Oh fuck me Roman you're so fucking ack!" Dean dug his bitten off nails into the skin on Roman's back as Roman's, too hot, hand came to wrap around his cock and stroke him in time with his thrusts. Dean could feel the threat of his impending orgasm. He wanted to postpone it as much as he wanted to get to it and he felt like he was being pulled in half. His moans couldn't be muffled any longer, they came pouring out loud and breathless an entire octave higher than his actual voice was.

"Oh, oh, oh, fu- oh god! Oh, oh, Roman!"

Dean lost it. He spilled his seed between them in three hot spurts up onto his chest making Roman laugh into his moan. He brought Dean's legs up onto his good shoulder so that he could fuck into him faster. Desperate, rough and completely primal, he rode Dean hard until his own orgasm over came him and with a growl he pulled out and finished on Dean's chest. 

They both sat panting for breath until their senses calmed some. Dean laughed softly as he sat up. The post coital flush still high on his cheeks and fuck is Roman wasn't absolutely beautiful. His tan skin was flushed with a red undertone. A light sheen of sweat making him look like a statue chiseled out of marble. It was amazing to look at.

"Fuck." Dean smiled, watching Roman brush the hair out of his face. "I don't think I've ever been fucked like that."

"Wow and to think I was going easy on you." Roman smirked, making Dean laugh again. "I am fucking exhausted." Roman stood and stretched and Dean admired the view. "I'm going to take a shower." He walked past Dean, casting an inviting look over his shoulder. Dean was to his feet at Roman's side so fast it was almost sad.

"You wouldn't mind some company would you?"

Roman shook his head and went up the stairs first. Dean cast one last look at the torn up house and blood all over the table and counted his blessings. Even though things were in complete disarray it was starting to look up. Everything was starting to feel right and Dean liked that feeling. He liked it allot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Skyfall- Adele


	7. Jackie and Wilson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are coming together and Dean is feeling things he's never felt before but is he really lucky enough for things to work out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy mother of cheese graters this took forever and I eternally apologize. The computer I'm using had some horrible issues and then I had to rework the whole chapter and I am terribly sorry this took so long. I promise I'll do better if you'll just forgive me? Anyways without further poor excuses please enjoy chapter 7 and thank you so very much for reading

.The light on Dean's eyelids forced him awake. He opened one eye, groaning low in his throat at the prospect of being awake. With a long groan he stretched his arms above his head making all his joints pop and crack. He was honestly getting too old for hand to hand combat.

 

Dean rolled over to face Roman, being greeted by the sleeping Samoan's muscular back. The memory of the better part of the previous night were still fresh on Dean's mind. He smirked to himself because honestly Roman was one hell of a looker and he fucked like an animal which was a surprise to Dean considering his prudish nature.

 

Dean laughed quietly to himself and rolled out of bed. He desperately need to smoke and figure out what the hell he was going to do. He slipped on a pair of underwear and grabbed the pack of smokes Roman had bought him. He walked around to Roman's side of the bed and borrowed his phone. Dean was sure he wouldn't mind. 

 

He made his way down the stairs to the front door, ignoring the corpse still pinned to the wall. He peeled the door open as quietly as he could manage and perched himself cross legged on the edge of the porch. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag on it, enjoying that familiar soothing burn. 

 

The phone call he was about to make was not going to go well. Regal was going to yell, that was inevitable. He always yelled when Dean got into trouble. The only time he'd never yelled was the time Dean got caught and tortured for days. Dean was sort of hoping that maybe Regal would be worried enough to not scream at him. Of course that was less likely if he found out Dean was fucking his captor.

 

Dean took another long drag of his cigarette as he tapped the number into Roman's phone. He put the phone to his ear as he exhaled. It rang six times before Regal picked up. His voice made Dean's heart skip a beat.

 

"How did you get this number?"

 

"William its me."

 

There was a long pause before Regal said anything. Dean shut his eyes tight until Regal spoke again.

 

"I thought you'd been killed."

 

Dean could hear the fire on Regal's every word. He opted out on the smart ass remark.

 

"I'm okay. I didn't get the hit I-"

 

Dean was cut off abruptly by Regal's yelling. It made him flinch and hold the phone out in front of him.

 

"Would it kill you to pick up a bloody phone?!"

 

Dean deserved that. He'd been avoiding calling since he'd fucked up the mission knowing damn well he was to check in no matter what. His lecture was his own damn fault but the next words over the receiver surprised him more than anything.

 

"You scared me."

 

Dean furrowed his brows and brought the phone back to his ear. They were both quiet for a while. Dean flicked the ash off his cigarette twice, kicking his legs out in front of him, before he spoke.

 

"I'm sorry." 

 

"Are you alright?"

 

"I'm safe." He exhaled with his words. "I'm gonna complete the hit." Dean never left a job unfinished and maybe Lesnar's head on a plate would soothe the obvious wound Dean had caused Regal.

 

"No! No, just," Regal sighed softly. "Just get back here. We'll figure it out just come back to me."

 

The following silence was long. It made Dean feel strange. He stubbed out his cigarette butt and scratched his nails over his shoulder, twitching slightly until Regal spoke again. His voice broke slightly before the Authoritative tone took over.

 

"That's an order Dean."

 

Dean nodded even though he knew he wouldn't be seen.

 

"Yes sir."

 

"Goodbye Dandelion."

 

"Goodbye old man."

 

Dean hung up first, sighing in relief as he set the phone down. He lit another cigarette as he heard the door behind him open. He turned to see who it was and was greeted by a smiling but clearly pained Seth, who lowered himself down next to Dean.

 

"I don't feel like you should be outta bed." Dean smirked.

 

"Who me? Nah, I'm fine." Seth let out a short laugh, doubling over in pain and making Dean frown.

 

"You shouldn't be moving around." Dean held his cigarette between his teeth as he checked Seth's temporary sutures. They had scabbed over but they didn't look like they were getting infected to Dean's relief.

 

"I can't lay around in bed all day." Seth protested, stretching his legs out in front of him like Dean's own. The two toned man looked up at the clear early morning sky as he spoke again. "We got shit we gotta do. We gotta get the hell outta town before the police show up or worse."

 

The mention of cops ran a shiver up Dean's spine. When you're constantly caught stealing shit you tend to develop a disdain for uniforms.

 

They stayed comfortably silent in the warmth of the climbing sun. Dean finished his cigarette and stubbed it out on the porch rail before Seth broke the silence. A devious smile played onto his expression but he didn't look at Dean just yet.

 

"So you and Roman finally fucked?"

 

The question made Dean's cheeks burn instantly and he cursed himself inwardly. It wasn't his to confirm nor deny so he went the easiest route he could think of. He schooled his voice before he spoke.

 

"What makes you say that?"

 

"You forgot to get dressed this morning." Seth snorted clutching his stomach at his sutures. 

 

Dean glanced down and only just remembered he'd only pulled on boxers. He really was useless without coffee and he had his mind too preoccupied with calling Regal and smoking to bother getting dressed fully. 

 

Seth finished laughing at him, resting a hand on Dean's shoulder as he mock wiped a tear away.

 

"It's okay. He really likes you this way I don't have to hear him talk about you every time you turn your back."

 

Dean was probably entirely red at this point. His cheeks, ears, chest and neck all burned with embarrassment. It made Seth smile even more. His toothy grin stretching across his entire face and making his gap more visible. Dean couldn't stand to look at him. He changed the subject.

 

"What are we gonna do about the bodies?" It wasn't a cop out if it was something they really needed to converse right?

 

Seth shrugged as best he could. He didn't seem nearly as concerned as he should have been. Dean wasn't sure if he should be concerned or not.

 

"I guess we'll just torch the house." Seth sighed nonchalantly making Dean choke on saliva. After the violent coughing fit that pursued Dean turned to face the two toned man in disbelief. After some careful calculations Dean determined he was in fact serious.

 

"Wh.. Uh What about your shit?" The thought of just torching that extravagant house was damn near unfathomable. Dean raised his eyebrows and turned his head to hear better as Seth spoke.

 

"Yeah man. Work paid for most of this shit. I'm not attached they'll just buy more."

 

Dean didn't realize his mouth was open until Seth looked at him concerned. Two gentle fingers came out and closed Dean's mouth manually.

 

"You're gonna catch flies." Seth smiled making Dean smile too despite the uneasy feeling he had in his stomach. Seth patted Dean on his shoulder. "Come on. Lets go get lover boy up so we can go."

 

Dean stood first and helped Seth to his feet, keeping him steady as they made their way back into the house. He didn't really let go until they were indoors and Dean was sure Seth wasn't going to fall flat on his face.

 

"I'll go up and get him." Dean started up the stairs as he heard Seth call after him.

 

"I wont break you know!"

 

Dean shook his head smiling. Seth was about as stubborn as he was which was saying allot. 

 

Dean pushed the door to Roman's room open as quietly as he could. That lovely Samoan was still fast asleep, though now he was sprawled out on his back. All of that long semi curly black hair draped over the pillows and his face making him look like a statue. Dean damn near didn't want to wake him but they did need to get moving.

 

Licking his lips, Dean crawled up the end of the bed, coming to straddle Roman's sleeping form just at his waist. He leaned down and kissed the larger man sensually. What better way to be woken up? Dean couldn't think of one besides a blowjob but that was for another day. To his disappointment, the other man didn't even stir.

 

Dean pouted a bit before he stuck out his tongue and ran it up the side of Roman's face. That got a reaction. Roman groaned, grimacing as he brought up a hand to wipe at his face. 

 

Dean smirked to himself as marble eyes met his own blue ones. A smile played onto Roman's lips as he brought his hands to rest on Dean's hips. 

 

"Mmh down boy." Roman moaned and fuck his voice was hot in the morning, still full of sleep and laced with gravel. Dean wanted to fuck him all over again but again there was no time for that.

 

"Are you still sore?" Dean asked running his hands down Roman's forearms. The man took on hell of an ass whooping. Dean couldn't imagine he felt good especially since Dean shot him.

 

Roman smirked, "I could ask you the same question."

 

Dean mirrored the expression. 

 

"Come on then Superman, We have to get moving Captains orders." Dean slid off the bed and headed to collect his jeans from the floor. Roman groaned but followed suit, sliding out of the bed and heading for the bathroom. Dean finished dressing himself after the door clicked shut and his view of that amazing body was cut off. What had he gotten himself into?

 

Dean headed down the stairs. He was met with a smiling Seth and a cup of black coffee. Perfect.

 

"Thanks." Dean took a long sip, ignoring the burn until his eyes started to water.

 

"You get him up?" Seth asked, settling himself on the couch slowly.

 

Dean nodded and took a seat next to him trying hard not to think of the events that occurred on that couch the night before. He took another long sip of his coffee before he turned to Seth.

 

"Where are we gonna go?" 

 

"Somewhere we wont get killed." Seth laughed into his coffee cup. Dean nodded to himself mostly. He could agree with that. He promised Regal he'd come back but it could wait right? He was pretty sure if he went back now he'd get strangled to death any how so what was the rush? Safety first.

 

"What I don't get any coffee?" Roman smiled as he emerged from the staircase. He was clad in all black, his long hair pulled up in a neat bun. It made Dean bite his lip. Fuck he was gorgeous.

 

"You got hands." Seth jabbed playfully making Roman scoff.

 

"I got shot you ass!"

 

"So did I!"

 

They both turned to Dean with devious smiles. Roman coming around the couch to stand over him.

 

"As the only who didn't get shot its your duty to get me some coffee." Roman's smile was infectious and Dean found himself smiling as well. He cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

 

"As the only amateur surgeon in the house I find I am the only one who does not have to make coffee." Dean stuck out his tongue making all three of them burst into a fit of laughter until Seth was doubled over in pain and Roman claimed his cup to take a long drink. He wrinkled his nose as Seth caught his breath.

 

"This has enough sugar in it to put me in a coma Uce, what the hell?"

 

"Not everyone likes bitter bean juice Ro." Seth smiled up at Roman who ruffled the two toned man's hair. Dean thought maybe this was what family felt like. A true feeling of love and acceptance. Sure the circumstances were shit. There was a fucking corpse not twenty feet away but the warmth in the room was unmistakable. It was awakening something inside Dean he didn't recognize but it wasn't unwelcome.

 

"Come on," Seth pushed himself up with a groan, "We got a house we gotta burn."

 

Roman offered a questioning look Dean was sure he'd seen Regal give him but shook his head anyways.

 

"What do you want me to do?" Roman still had that look but Seth seemed to ignore it completely.

 

"Go get the Lexus out and stock it with as much weaponry as you can." Dean didn't miss that devious smirk on Seth's face nor the way Roman rolled his eyes but headed out the door anyways.

 

"What about me?" Dean stood and stretched his hands above his head.

 

"Go drag Bryan in. I'll take care of the indoor stuff so we can get the fuck outta here."

 

That smirk was still there but Dean didn't question him. Instead he headed out the door to do as he was told. Bryan was still exactly where Dean had dropped him. Dean approached him slowly as if he'd jump up at any moment. His eyes were still open, a hazy film over them making them light blue. Dean groaned. Dead bodies always creeped him out, which was saying allot considering his line of business but he usually didn't have to deal with them considering he was usually gone by the time they were found. 

 

"Great." Dean sighed, leaning down and grabbing Bryan's arms, dragging him across the yard to the back door and into the house. Dean dropped him once they were just barely through the door. 

 

It didn't go unnoticed that the windows had duct tape around the edges. Seth came into the kitchen with a satisfied smile on his face.

 

"What's with the tape?" Dean pointed to the windows with a confused look on his face.

 

"Bigger boom. You do what I told you?"

 

Dean nodded as Seth went over to the stove and turned all of pilots on. 

 

"Good we better haul ass then. Roman's waiting in the car." Seth took Dean's hand and all but dragged him to the door. Dean wasn't sure how he was basically running without passing out from pain but he figure it was probably that stubborn jackass mentality similar to Dean's own.

 

They all piled into Seth's Lexus. Roman in the drivers seat, Dean shot gun and Seth in the back so that he could justifiably lie down. They backed out of the driveway and made it a little ways down the main road out of the neighborhood before that unmistakable boom rattled the very car itself making Dean smile as Seth cheered from the backseat. Roman smiled in the seat next to him and Dean couldn't help but think maybe being on the run wasn't so bad with these two in company.

 

He settled himself into the seat, looking out the window as Roman picked a radio station. They had a long drive ahead not that any of them knew where they were going but the drive would be long no doubt. Not that Dean minded.

 

A hand rested on top of his, stroking over his knuckles as the radio filled the car. Seth hummed along in the backseat as Dean continued to look out the window. He swore he knew the black car with tinted windows that passed them but he shook it off. Everything was gonna get better now. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is Jackie and Wilson by the amazing Hozier. I am obsessed with his music and like a fuck ton more chapters will probably have hozier titles because his songs make me think Roman and Dean to no end. thanks for reading

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading


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